


Bright Eyes

by ChaosRocket



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Affection, Anal Sex, Best Friends as Lovers, Canon Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Found Family, HEA, Happy Ending, Horror, M/M, Massages, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Playing Video Games and Board Games, Post canon, Psychological Horror, Rimming, Romance, Slice of Life, Yami Bakura & Ryou Bakura, nerd stuff, romantic sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-30 20:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 62,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14504514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosRocket/pseuds/ChaosRocket
Summary: If anyone had told Bakura that one day he'd be this happy, he probably would have laughed them out of the room. But that's what Malik made him—happy. Then again, who wouldn't be happy spending every day playing video games, watching movies, having sex, and—yeah, arguing—with someone like Malik? It was like a dream come true. What could possibly be wrong with that?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you missed the tags, this is a horror fic, but it’s mostly psychological horror and the violence shouldn’t get any worse than what is typical for canon. The rating is because there are sex scenes. And not to give spoilers or anything, but every single Thiefshipping/Citronshipping fic I’ve ever written has the same ending and this won’t be an exception!

Bakura woke to the daylight streaming through the curtains. He rolled over, and saw Malik was still asleep. He took a moment to admire the way the sunlight reflected off of Malik’s golden hair.

If Malik had had any nightmares last night, Bakura would have let him sleep a little longer. But Malik had been peaceful all night. Bakura was a light sleeper, his senses honed from sleeping by himself in a dangerous desert for so many years, where he’d always needed to be alert to the slightest threat, and so he always woke up at the smallest sound of distress or troubled movement from Malik.

But Bakura had slept straight through the night, so he knew Malik must have as well. Which meant Malik ought to be well-rested, so there was no reason he shouldn’t get up now and entertain Bakura.

Bakura poked him in the bicep, and when he got no reaction, he poked him a little harder.

“Ugh,” Malik said. He squinted at Bakura, looking irritable.

“Morning, Sunshine.” Bakura only used the nickname when Malik seemed grumpy, and always said it in a sarcastic voice, as if he were making fun of him for being in a bad mood. But secretly he was sincere about the pet name. Malik was all light and warmth and gold.

Or maybe it wasn’t so secret. He was pretty sure Malik knew what he really meant. So he didn't know why he bothered keeping up the charade, pretending he was only teasing Malik.

He supposed it was just the way they were.

After all, Malik didn’t have a pet name for him, unless _asshole_ counted as a pet name. Which, coming from Malik, it sort of did.

“There had better be a good reason you’re waking me up, asshole,” Malik grumbled.

Bakura smiled.

“I want breakfast,” Bakura said.

“So?”

“So, you should make it for me.” Bakura paused. “Besides, it’s boring to have breakfast alone.”

Malik groaned. “You’re getting cereal.”

Malik did get up, though, and shuffled into the kitchen, and Bakura followed.

Malik almost always said Bakura was just getting cereal, but it usually wasn’t true.

Today, however, Malik did get out two bowls, dumping wheat flakes into his own and some generic brand of chocolate cereal into Bakura’s.

Bakura didn’t complain. He liked chocolate for breakfast.

Malik still seemed half-asleep throughout breakfast. He didn’t say much to Bakura, just scrolling through his phone, looking at gods knew what.

At times like this, Bakura sort of wished he had his own phone. But getting one seemed pointless. It wasn’t like he had any friends besides Malik, so he didn’t have anyone to call or text. If he really wanted to get on the internet, he could use the desktop computer, but he mostly used the computer for playing video games.

“You slept alright, didn’t you?” Bakura finally asked as they finished their small breakfast and Malik got up to rinse their bowls.

“Yeah, yeah. Dunno why I’m so tired.”

“I know what will wake you up,” Bakura said, giving him a sly, hopeful look.

“I already know what you’re going to say, and the answer is no!”

“Monopoly!” Bakura exclaimed, throwing his hands up in mock enthusiasm.

“I said no! Gods, no, Bakura. The last time we played, it took six hours and we didn’t even get to finish because you went ballistic and flipped the board when you landed on my hotel on Park Place!”

“I landed on it like five fucking times in a row! There’s no way that was legit, you had to have switched out the dice with a loaded set!”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” Malik exclaimed.

“Then how do you explain me landing on it so many times? You were obviously cheating somehow!” Bakura yelled.

“You’re the one who was cheating!” Malik shot back. “I damn well know you were palming the dice the entire time!”

“Exactly! So there’s no way I got five bad rolls in a row unless _you_ were cheating!”

Malik smacked his own forehead. “This is exactly why I’m not playing that dumb game with you! We’re not even playing yet and you’re already making me want to kill you over it!”

Bakura threw back his head and laughed while Malik just glared at him. Bakura finally sobered and gave Malik his best Ryou-like entreating gaze. “Come on, it will be fun. Please?”

But Malik wasn’t moved. “I said no! Now stop bothering me about it. I’m going to take a shower.” With that Malik strode from the kitchen of their small apartment, heading for the bathroom.

Bakura let him go. Five minutes later, he shed his clothes and slipped into the shower with Malik, planning to give him a little convincing.

 

* * *

 

Malik sat cross legged on the floor of the living room, his face still flushed and eyes still hazy from orgasm. He moved his top hat piece to Free Parking. He didn’t get anything out of it, since Bakura insisted that they play by the official rules, which stated that Free Parking was simply a free space where nothing happened. Bakura had always been particular about winning and losing in certain ways. “Your turn,” Malik sighed.

Bakura smiled and rolled the dice. Of course, he landed on the exact property he wanted.

Malik tuned out as Bakura started talking about the mathematical probability of landing on certain properties and why it was therefore best to own those properties.

“You’re such a nerd,” Malik said as he took the dice and threw them across the board. He had a feeling it was going to be a long game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters in this fic will mostly be short, around 1k-2k. I ended up feeling like it was important to the structure of the fic to split it up that way. The first several chapters will focus mostly on the slice of life/domestic fluff aspect—just random snapshots of events in their existence where the next chapter doesn’t necessarily directly follow from the previous chapter. 
> 
> There IS a plot, but it won’t become obvious until later on—the plot is only hinted at in the first few chapters. 
> 
> Since the chapters are so short I’m going to try to update at least once or twice a week. I’m not done writing it all yet, but I’ve never not finished a fic so don’t worry.


	2. Chapter 2

Bakura was so absorbed in his project that if it weren’t for the fact that Malik always slammed the door as hard as he could when he returned from work, Bakura probably wouldn’t have heard him come home.

As it was, the loud crash broke Bakura’s concentration, startling him so much he stumbled a bit, almost toppling off the step ladder he was perched on.

He caught his balance and growled to himself, then reached up again with his paintbrush to continue blending blue into darker blue.

He’d been working on creating the scene on their bedroom ceiling all day. He often got bored when Malik was at work, and painting their ceiling had seemed to him like as good of a distraction as any.

But his renewed concentration didn’t last long, as he soon heard a cacophony of pots and pans crashing together in the kitchen, occasionally punctuated by the slamming of cabinet doors.

At least the noise didn’t startle him, since he’d expected it this time. Malik was always in a tiff when he got home from work, and seemed to like to make as much noise as possible as a result, taking his frustration out on the objects in their apartment.

Bakura didn’t bother calling out to him. Malik always seemed to forget what he’d been angry about after being back in their home for a few minutes. By the time Malik was done making their dinner, he would be feeling better.

But the noise went on, and soon proved too much of an irritant for Bakura to properly concentrate on his painting. He sighed, climbing down off the ladder and throwing his paintbrush into the mixing tray.

Bakura considered just hiding out in the bedroom until Malik’s tantrum was over, but the noises continued, making it impossible for him to relax. Finally, as the jangle and scrape of silverware being thrown full-force into the sink made him wince, he decided to march to the kitchen and confront Malik.

He might have had more sympathy, but he didn’t see why Malik chose to have a job anyways. Malik had to have had plenty of riches from his clan, so it wasn’t as if they needed the money. But any attempt by Bakura to discuss this was always brushed off, so obviously Malik didn’t want his advice. Malik wouldn’t even talk about what it was that happened at work that always made him so pissed off.

So Bakura strode to the kitchen and said, the irritation clear in his voice, “Can you please fucking keep it down? I’m trying to work on something.”

Malik shot him a withering look. “That’s the thanks I get for making you dinner? Maybe I’ll just throw your meat out the window and eat all these potatoes myself.” Malik turned his attention back to stirring some mixture in a pot on the stove, seeming to dismiss Bakura.

“Do you want me to mess it up because all the noise you’re making is distracting me? Because then you’ll have to live with it too, you ass.”

Malik slowly turned back to Bakura, eyes widening as something seemed to dawn on him. “Wait, what are you working on? Why will I have to live with it if it gets messed up?”

“I guess you could call it sort of...a home improvement project.”

Malik narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Are you fucking up the apartment somehow, Bakura? Because I swear—”

Bakura scoffed. “Damn, have a little more faith in me than that. I think it’s something you’ll like...if you can be quiet enough to let me properly finish it.”

Malik gave the white mixture in the pot another stir and then removed it from the burner. Despite Bakura having come out here to berate him, he seemed to be in a calmer mood now, his lips quirking up a little as he said, “Well, for your sake I hope this isn’t something that will make me regret cooking you your old favorite meal, asshole.”

Bakura raised his eyebrows. “Roasted pork?”

“Yeah. Though I still think you only liked it because you weren’t supposed to have it.”

Bakura rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner, obviously just acting now, getting into their game of verbal sparring. “I told you, I liked it because it was expensive, and because it wasn’t very common to get hold of any meat other than fish back when I lived in Egypt. So of course I loved it when I actually got to eat a real chunk of meat.”

“But still, in your culture you weren’t really supposed to eat it. Don’t tell me that wasn’t an attraction for you.” Malik slipped an oven mitt onto his hand and opened the oven, bending to remove the pork loin and a tray of potatoes.

“Sure, pork was considered taboo—most the year anyways—but I obviously never cared about those kinds of conventions. No matter what the time or place, there are always some stupid social rules, and I couldn’t care less about them.”

“Most of the year?” Malik thought for a moment. “Oh, yeah, they used to eat it to celebrate the anniversary of Set being defeated by Horus, right? Since Set considered pigs sacred?”

“Did I ever tell you that was the only day of the year I refused to eat it?”

Malik laughed. “That sounds like you.” He set about dishing out the roasted potatoes onto two plates, adding the pork loin to Bakura’s plate, and then pouring the creamy mixture from the pot into a bowl for himself. “Oh, do you want any of the potato soup?”

“Nah, that would be too many potatoes in one meal. I can only deal with a certain amount of vegetables at one time.”

Malik rolled his eyes and proceeded to set their food on the table.

Bakura shrugged. “Anyways, I kinda liked Set. He wasn’t too bad...for a god.”

“I can see why.” Malik winked as Bakura opened the refrigerator to get out a couple cans of soda.

The two sat down at the table, and Bakura looked at the browned meat with hunger. “Now that I’ve been able to try a good rare steak, I do prefer that,” he admitted. “But really, who doesn’t like a big hunk of pork?”

“I’ll bet the way I make it is way better than what you had back then.” Malik started in on his soup.

Bakura ignored the fork and knife Malik had futilely laid out at his place at the table, grabbing the pork with his bare hands and tearing a chunk out of it with his teeth, letting the juice drip down his face. “You do use a lot more spices and stuff,” he said, mouth full. “It was pretty bland back in Egypt.”

Malik let out a long-suffering sigh. “I’m not even going to say anything…”

“You should follow my lead and eat quicker.” Bakura tore off another piece of meat. “I want us to hurry and finish so I can show you what I was doing in the bedroom.”

Malik’s eyes went round. “Oh, hell, I forgot all about that!”

Bakura smiled. “Come on, hurry up and you can see what it is. I really think you’ll like it.”

“I’d better,” Malik said with a sulk, but he did speed up, spooning more soup into his mouth.

The two were silent after that, concentrating on finishing their meal quickly instead of talking. Once they were done, Malik threw the dishes into the sink, and he must have really been eager to see what Bakura had to show him, because he didn’t even bother to rinse the dishes and load them into the dishwasher.

Malik followed Bakura into the bedroom. At first, he just glanced around at the mess of stained tarps and paint cans, but then Bakura pointed to the ceiling and Malik looked up and gasped.

“Oh…”

Bakura rubbed his head. “I just hadn’t done anything artistic in a while, so I thought…”

“Yeah, you used to make those dolls and paint figurines...I’ve been saying you should…” Malik broke off, seeming entranced by the sight above him.

“Do you like it? It’s not quite done, but...”

Malik blinked, a smile spreading across his face as he gazed up at the painting. Above his side of the bed was a scene of the night sky, the deepest blue background speckled with white stars, and the pale moon that seemed to shine down on him just as Bakura knew it did when Malik was a child and looked up through the hole in the rocky ceiling of the tomb, dreaming of freedom and the outside world.

“It’s beautiful,” Malik said, sounding almost awestruck, and Bakura couldn’t help but smile as he looked down at his feet.

Malik continued staring upwards as he walked around the bed to get a better look at the rest of the mural. His eyes panned to the scene above Bakura’s side of the bed, where the near-black of the painted night sky from Malik's side faded into a much lighter blue, depicting the sky in the daytime. Fluffy white clouds surrounded a circular shape ringed by golden streaks which was supposed to be the sun, though it wasn’t painted in yet.

“Look,” Bakura said. “I’ll bet you’ll like this even better.”

Bakura walked over to the wall and flicked off the light switch. The small lamp on the table beside Malik’s side of the bed that was never turned off still provided some light, but it was now dim enough in the room to see that the places on the ceiling that were painted white glowed in the dark.

Malik laughed with delight. “That’s so cool!”

“See? Now aren’t you sorry for acting like a pissy jerk?”

“I wasn’t pissy,” Malik said, sounding distracted.

Bakura flipped the light back on. “Sure, sure. Anyways, you can help me finish it, if you want. I just have to do a little more blending of the blue hues between the daytime part and the nighttime part, but you could paint in the sun.”

“I don’t really know anything about art. I don’t want to mess it up.”

“You do your makeup, right? That’s sort of like painting. I’m sure you can color in a sun. I’ll let you know what colors to use. If you really screw up, I’ll just paint over it.”

Malik smiled. “Alright, then.”

There was only one ladder, but Malik was tall enough to reach the ceiling using the stepping stool they kept in their hall closet, so they got to work.

Malik did mess up a couple times, so Bakura fixed it for him, and once he was finished he darted the hand holding his paintbrush out to dab a bit of yellow paint onto the tip of Malik’s nose.

Bakura could tell Malik was using all his willpower to refrain from retaliating. “You know if you try to get me back, it’ll turn into a whole paint fight, and then your precious fashionable clothing and silk sheets will end up covered in paint,” Bakura laughed. “So you can’t do a thing.”

“Fuck. You,” Malik said through gritted teeth, clearly annoyed because he knew Bakura was right. Bakura chortled and went back to putting the finishing touches on the part of the sky he was working on.

Malik did take his revenge, though, by teasing Bakura about being short enough to need a ladder, and Bakura scowled and cursed at him. But he couldn’t help the secret smile that kept stealing onto his lips every time he looked out of the corner of his eye and saw Malik with his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he made the sun bright, and wondered if the white glow of the moon ever reminded Malik of him.


	3. Chapter 3

Bakura opened his eyes, but saw nothing. It was pitch black.

Tendrils of dread began to creep into his chest. He wasn’t at home. It was never dark at home.

The silence was shattered by a loud wail, followed by another, and then another until there were more voices than he could count, their cries of agony blending into one horrible, head-splitting sound.

Bakura’s hands came up to cover his ears, but it had no effect. He could still hear them.

“They’re not really here,” he told himself. “They’re not really here.”

“Are you sure about that?” a rumbling, sinister voice asked.

He looked around for the source of the voice, but instead saw the faces of the wailing spirits—or was it just one face? No, there were many faces, but each one was superimposed on top of another, and all of them were melting, their skin dripping like wax as they screamed. The features of the hybrid face seemed to shift between ones vaguely familiar to him and ones he didn’t think he knew at all.

But one had to be his mother, another his sister—why couldn’t he remember their faces?

“They’re not really here,” he said again. “They’re safe.”

He didn’t remember how he knew that.

Suddenly, the noise cut out and the ghostly apparitions disappeared, leaving Bakura with a ringing in his ears and a fading after-image in front of his eyes. It was pitch dark again for a moment, and then his vision was filled with a huge, inhuman creature displaying dripping fangs and giant claws, its slick black skin catching just enough light from somewhere to make it visible.

But he still couldn’t see it well enough to make out much. Was it Zorc? But Zorc was dead...wasn’t he? It didn’t matter, though. There were all kinds of demons in the shadows.

“That was fun,” the creature said in its deep voice. “What should we do now?”

Bakura tried to scramble away from it, but an appendage shot out before he could blink, and he felt sharp claws sink into his shoulder.

He cried out, struggling, but the creature held him fast, and then it raked its claws down his arm, rending the flesh there. Bakura saw the blood flow out of the wound as he tried to kick at the thing that trapped him. A second set of claws sunk into his chest, slashing downwards and tearing his skin apart, and he screamed again as he felt the bright sting.

“Bakura,” he heard, but the sound was faint, seeming to come from a great distance.

He stared at the blood dripping down his wounded body.

“Bakura!” Louder this time. Closer. “Bakura!”

He looked up, alert. It was Malik. Malik was calling him back, bringing him home.

“Bakura, come on!”

Bakura felt himself fading. It was like fainting, except that he didn’t feel as if he were falling down into blackness, but rather that he was being pulled somewhere else, somewhere there was light.

He let himself relax. He was going to Malik.

The demon bared its teeth, snarling at him. “You can’t get away forever. I will see you again soon.”

“Bakura! Bakura, stop! You have to wake up!”

Bakura gasped as his eyes shot open. As he came back to his senses, the first thing he was aware of was Malik’s grip tight around his body—too tight. Malik’s arms were locked around him, pinning his arms down to his sides, and one of his hands had been pulled behind his own back, Malik gripping his wrist hard, almost twisting his arm.

“Malik? Malik, why are—not so tight, okay?”

Relief washed over Malik’s face. “You’re really awake, right? You’re not going to hurt yourself any more?”

“What are you talking about?”

Malik’s grip slackened a little, but he didn’t let go. “Bakura, look.” Malik nodded towards Bakura’s shoulder, and Bakura looked down, letting out a gasp at the sight of the open wounds and the blood dripping down his arm.

“Fuck!” yelled Bakura. “How did—“ He broke off, cold fear gripping him as the memory of the dark demon came back to him.

“You were _clawing_ at yourself,” Malik said. He finally let go of Bakura’s wrist and stopped restraining him, switching to holding him instead, though his grip was still tighter than usual.

Bakura gave him a dubious look. “I did that?”

“Yes, I fucking watched you. Hell, Bakura, you were ripping yourself apart. I tried to stop you, but...you were thrashing so much, and by the time I could get ahold of you, you’d already done...that.”

The pain hit Bakura suddenly. His arm burned and ached, and his chest felt the same. Feeling weak, he let himself lean into Malik, and Malik supported his weight.

“Do you have any idea why you did that?” Malik asked. “Was it a nightmare?”

Bakura nodded slowly. “I dreamed...that a demon was clawing me apart.”

Malik seemed to try to smile. “Well next time, don’t act it out, alright? You fucking _scared_ me.”

“Sorry,” Bakura said quietly, curling into Malik and laying his head on his chest.

“Ra, don’t apologize.” Malik grabbed his face and turned it up towards him, giving Bakura a searching look. “You never apologize. Are you...alright?”

Bakura couldn’t help barking out a laugh, though he couldn’t explain why he had that reaction. “I’m sure I’ll live. Hurts, though.”

Malik suddenly grabbed his hand and held it up in front of his face. “I didn’t even notice your nails were this long. You have to cut these, Bakura.”

“Not like we had nail clippers in ancient Egypt,” Bakura muttered.

Malik smiled a little more genuinely now, seeming to realize that if Bakura was trying to bicker with him then he couldn’t be too badly off. “I’m going to go get something to clean you up, alright? You’re bleeding all over my silk sheets.”

“What, you want me to move?” Bakura scoffed.

“Don’t you dare,” Malik said. He climbed off the bed and left the room.

It wasn’t long before Malik was back with a wet washcloth and a bottle of disinfectant. Bakura hissed and complained as Malik cleaned the wounds on his arm and chest, and Malik pressed a kiss to his hair or his skin every time he made a pained sound, but didn’t stop his task.

When Malik was finally done, he said, “I don’t think we even have any bandages. I guess we can wrap one of your shirts around these cuts to keep you from bleeding everywhere.”

“Why not one of your shirts?”

Malik let out a derisive laugh. “My shirts are nice.”

Malik went and dug around in one of Bakura’s drawers until he found a couple of his plain T-shirts. He set about ripping them up, and then tied the strips around Bakura’s arm and chest.

“I’m having deja vu,” Bakura commented. “You did this to me once before, on the day we met. You used _my_ shirt that time, too.”

“Ryou’s shirt,” Malik corrected him. “And yeah, I have to nurse you too often. You need to quit making yourself bleed.”

“Not like I did it on purpose this time!”

Malik smiled and, now that the task was done, he took Bakura into his arms and cuddled him close, petting his hair and stroking his skin. Bakura let his arms find their way around Malik’s waist, though he winced when he moved his injured arm.

They were silent for a moment. Bakura closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of Malik’s fingers trailing up and down his back.

When he heard Malik let out a little yawn, Bakura said, “Do you...want to try to go back to sleep?”

Malik must have heard the hesitation in his voice. “Nah, I probably couldn’t even sleep right now. I’m a bit tired, but...we can always take a nap later. Not like we have any pressing appointments today or anything.”

“So you’re not going to work today?” Bakura asked, hopeful. He was more shaken than he wanted to admit, and he really didn’t want to be left alone.

Malik gave him a confused look. “Of course not. What are you talking about?”

Bakura shrugged. He supposed it must have been Saturday. Or Sunday. He wasn’t exactly sure. It wasn’t as if he had a job himself, so there really wasn’t any reason for him to keep track of the days of the week. He supposed he could see why that would seem weird to Malik, though. And he didn’t want to worry him further. He really was going to be fine, so there was no reason to stress Malik out about it. “Oh, yeah. Right. Maybe I’m still half asleep.”

“That nightmare must have really scrambled your head.” Malik looked down at the makeshift bandages that were already tinged with red, shaking his head. “Well, I guess I can see that it did.”

“So, if we’re staying up, what do you want to do?” Bakura asked, changing the subject.

“Well, I suppose since you’re wounded, you can choose. As long as it’s not fucking Monopoly.”

“We could watch a horror movie,” Bakura said.

Malik burst out laughing. “Only you would want to watch a horror movie at a time like this!”

“Well...as long as it’s not Nightmare on Elm Street.”

Malik laughed harder at that. “You can choose the movie. Go set it up. I’m going to grab you some painkillers. Do you want a snack, too?”

Bakura nodded. “You choose something. You know what I like.”

A few minutes later, they were snuggled up together on the couch, sharing a bowl of peanuts and cheese cubes. They each had a glass of lemonade, and Bakura had swallowed the aspirin Malik had brought him.

Bakura pressed play on the remote. Malik asked, “So what are we watching?”

“Jason X.”

Malik chuckled. “You always want to watch the silliest things.”

“Shut up, or I’ll make you watch the Thankskilling sequel.”

Malik put his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright.”

“Anyways, I think a horror-comedy is appropriate right now. I guess I’m not really in the mood for anything too serious. Besides, this is unironically my favorite Friday the 13th movie.”

“It’s fine, I said you could choose. We can watch something more serious sometime later, when the mood is a little lighter. I was thinking I should see Jacob’s Ladder at some point. Everyone says it’s a classic.”

“I dunno. The twist has already been ruined for me, so I don’t know how much I’d enjoy it.” Bakura shrugged and popped a cheddar cheese cube into his mouth. “But how can you not love this movie? I mean, the frozen exploding head? Virtual reality Crystal Lake? Sleeping bag murder? It’s fucking awesome.”

Bakura was giddy just thinking about the upcoming kills in the movie, and Malik laughed happily at his excitement. “You’re right, it’s pretty great.”

“If you want to watch something more serious next time, we can try some episodes of Night Visions. It’s a damn travesty that show was cancelled so soon, but they finally have all the episodes online.”

“Sounds good,” said Malik, then tossed a handful of peanuts into his mouth.

They quieted after that, munching on their snacks and watching the movie.

When the movie was over, they played Mario Kart until long after the sun came up, then finally went back to the bedroom and curled up together to nap throughout the afternoon. Bakura had no more nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this will be the only Malik and Bakura Watch Horror Movies scene in this fic. I had to do at least one!


	4. Chapter 4

Malik squirmed in his seat, grimacing.

“You alright?” Bakura asked.

“Fine,” Malik huffed.

Bakura knew better than to push the issue, so he went back to watching the movie after giving Malik’s leg a comforting squeeze.

But a few minutes later Malik twisted around sharply, letting out a sound of irritation.

“You should—“ Bakura started.

Before he could finish, Malik jumped up, groaning as he ripped his shirt off. But the motion he’d made was obviously too quick and rough, and Malik let out a fresh sound of pain before throwing his shirt to the ground in irritation and stomping off down the hallway.

Bakura followed to find him lying face down on their bed, his face screwed up in agony.

Bakura reached out to stroke his arm. “Hurt?”

Malik nodded, squeezing his eyes closed.

Bakura rushed off to the bathroom, and was soon back with a bottle of lavender oil. He wordlessly got on the bed to straddle Malik, and poured some of the oil over the scars on his back.

Malik sighed as Bakura began rubbing the oil over his back with gentle touches.

Bakura knew he couldn’t make the pain disappear entirely, but the oil helped somewhat, and he knew his touch on Malik’s scars brought him some comfort.

Once the oil was worked in, he would be able to massage him more firmly, and get rid of the tension in his muscles.

“Once upon a time,” Bakura started, and saw Malik try to smile even through his discomfort.

When Malik’s scars were bothering him, Bakura would make up random little stories to distract Malik from the pain.

“There was a little girl who was...let’s see...an orphan,” Bakura said. “That was because her parents got killed by...being gored by a bull. They sort of deserved it though, you know? I mean, what kind of jerks become bullfighters? Yeah, they were a husband and wife bullfighting duo. And they were known for being especially mean to the bulls, too.

“The little girl loved animals, so it had always made her sad that her parents were bullfighters. Still, though, she was pretty upset about them dying.

“Everyone in the village felt really sorry for her, but they couldn’t do much for her since they were all really poor. That was because the king owned all the farmland and all the shops, so he took almost all of the profit they made, and only let them keep a small bit of the money, even though they did all the actual work.

“So the king didn’t normally bother to help anyone in the village. But he heard of the little girl’s plight, and remembered a sacred text he’d read that said orphans made the best heroes.”

Bakura’s fingers slowly traced each symbol on Malik’s back, making sure to get the oil into every indentation. “Get it? Orphans? We’re the best heroes?”

He felt Malik rumble with quiet laughter. “Yeah, I get it.”

“So anyways,” Bakura went on, “he told the girl she could come live in the palace and have all the luxuries she’d ever dreamed of if she would become a knight and help to protect the kingdom.

“The girl had nowhere else to go, so she agreed.

“She trained and trained, and it turned out she was really good at...uh, knighting. Yeah, she was a good knight.”

Bakura felt Malik’s body relax by degrees, and began to dig his fingers in harder, alternating between gentle caresses and kneading his hands into the taut muscles.

“So, anyways, years passed and she grew up,” Bakura continued.

“So one day the king said that there was a dragon who had been stealing all the treasure from the palace, and asked the girl, who was now his best knight, to go and slay the dragon.

“The girl agreed and went to the cave where the dragon lived.

“The dragon roared and said, ‘Oh, miss knight, you are so beautiful. Why would one so beautiful ever want to slay me?’

“The girl was confused because she had all her armor on, so the dragon couldn’t see her. So she took off her...face mask thing? What’s that fucking thing knights wear called? Is it just called a helmet?”

Bakura found another knot of tension in Malik’s back, and rubbed at it until it loosened and Malik let out a sigh.

“Anyways she took it off and said, ‘I am not beautiful, my face is covered in scars from all the knighting I’ve done over the years. Our armor kind of sucks, you see, because the king doesn’t pay the workers who make it enough.’

“The dragon gasped and said, ‘Oh, but you are beautiful! Your face is the most beautiful I’ve seen! More importantly, I can see your soul and I know that your ba is beautiful, your ka is beautiful, your ib is beautiful, all the parts of your soul are beautiful! One such as you should not want to kill an innocent.’

“The girl said, ‘But you are not innocent, you have stolen from the king.’

“The dragon said, ‘Yet, the king steals from his workers each day. So who’s really the evil one? Huh?’

“The girl was confused. She had a job to do, and yet, she didn’t want to kill a living creature who hadn’t hurt anyone. She remembered how her parents had been gored to death by a bull due to their mistreatment of innocent animals.”

Bakura paused for a moment, thinking about what would happen next in the story as his hands searched for another tense spot along Malik’s back.

Then he thought of something and said, “But the girl was noble. So she said, ‘I shall spend the night in this cave to test whether or not you are evil. I trust the gods will provide an answer by morning.’

“The dragon agreed. So they sat by the fire talking about their lives until late at night, and learned many things about each other. Then they went to bed.”

All the tension seemed to have left Malik’s muscles now, and Bakura pressed his palms flat against Malik’s back, sliding them down from his shoulders to the small of his back and then up again. He continued the story.

“During the night, while the girl was sleeping, a bat came down and tried to bite her and turn her into a vampire. The dragon grabbed the bat in her great paws before it could bite the girl, and gently put the bat outside, explaining to the bat that it needed to ask first before turning someone into a vampire, because not everyone wanted to be a vampire, though some people did.

“The girl saw all this and was impressed. She said, ‘Oh, dragon, you are not evil!’ And she was so overwhelmed she gave the dragon a kiss on her snout.

“Well, the kiss turned the dragon into a beautiful princess. The dragon explained that she could turn back into a dragon whenever she wanted, but she liked to turn into a human if she was going to be kissing a human.

“This made the girl happy, and she fell in love with the dragon princess. The dragon princess loved her too, and they lived happily ever after.”

Bakura was not very good at telling stories, but Malik didn’t seem to mind. His muscles felt relaxed and supple now, and the expression on his face was calm, a small smile playing over his lips. Bakura was sure he was still experiencing a dull pain, but he’d been lulled into a state of relaxation through listening to Bakura’s voice and feeling his caresses.

Bakura slid off of Malik and lay down next to him, and delicately traced his scars with his fingertips until he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote Bakura’s story as a stream-of-consciousness in like ten minutes without thinking of what I was going to write beforehand and only went back and edited for grammar and to insert dialogue tags and Bakura’s actions, because I wanted it to be realistic that someone could randomly make it up on the spot, so that’s why it sucks lol


	5. Chapter 5

Bakura leaned against the window sill, staring out of the glass, pretending he wasn’t waiting for Malik to get home.

It was already dark out, so Malik should be back from work soon.

He squinted down into the parking lot, hoping to catch a glimpse of Malik’s bike coming around the corner. But it was so dark he couldn’t see a thing. Malik could be riding up to the apartment right now, and he’d never know it with how pitch black it was outside.

He suddenly realized that was weird. There should have been street lights on in the parking lot. Perturbed, he glanced away for a moment, thinking.

When he looked back, the parking lot was illuminated by the sodium lamps, as it should have been.

That was strange. But Bakura supposed the power had just been out for a moment. Street lights often flickered off for a bit before coming back on.

He sighed. He felt oddly shaken, and he didn’t know why. He just wanted Malik to be home already. He was fucking bored out of his mind, and had been all day.

And staring out the window wasn’t helping. He finally heaved himself away from the sill and crossed the living room to flop down onto the couch.

He picked up the remote, thinking he’d find something on television to pass the time. But as soon as he turned on the TV, he heard the doorknob jiggling.

Bakura flicked off the TV and turned to watch Malik storming into the apartment.

Malik was muttering and sighing to himself. He kicked off his shoes with much more force than was necessary, then ripped off his jacket and threw it onto the coat rack.

“Toss me your phone. I’ll order takeout,” Bakura said.

Malik heaved out an irritated sigh, but he dug into his coat pocket and retrieved his phone, throwing it to Bakura with a vicious “Fine.”

Malik regarded Bakura with a glare as Bakura tapped at the screen. “Hope you’re happy now,” Malik said. “Bastard.”

Bakura gave him a look of mock hurt. “And I was going to order from your favorite place, too. Is that attitude really the thanks I get?”

Malik sighed again, sounding almost pained. “I just wish we could get out of this place.”

Bakura looked up from the phone, trying to plaster an innocent expression on his face. “What do you mean?”

But he knew he’d been caught out.

“I mean—" Malik started, but then he paused, almost seeming to lose his train of thought. “Whatever,” Malik finally said, flopping down on the couch next to Bakura.

“Fine, if you’re going to be like that,” Bakura said. He paused, the silence spinning out between them for a moment. “I don’t know why you’re always angling for us to go out to dinner,” Bakura eventually said, finally admitting what they both knew Malik was annoyed at him over.

“Yeah, going out to dinner,” Malik said slowly. He shook his head, and his eyes seemed to clear. “I’m just sick of sitting around here all the time. Aren’t you?”

“Why would I want to go out there?” Bakura retorted. “You always look miserable every time you get home.”

“What are you talking about?” Malik said. Bakura had to roll his eyes at that. Malik was putting on his best impression at seeming to genuinely not know what he meant, but there was no way he was going to fool Bakura into forgetting the fact that he was always in an awful mood when he got home from work.

“Obviously, going out isn’t good for your mental health,” Bakura said. “We’ll both be much happier staying in.”

“I just get sick of cooking every damn night, that’s all.”

Bakura held up the phone, waggling it in front of Malik’s face. “And that’s why I’m ordering takeout. From your favorite place. Remember?”

“Yeah, alright,” Malik conceded, shrugging his shoulders.

But Malik still didn’t look entirely happy, so Bakura offered, “And hey, while we’re waiting for it to get here, how about we play a game?”

“Not Monopoly!” Malik exclaimed, but he was laughing a bit now.

“No, we obviously wouldn’t have time for that.” For once, Bakura really wasn’t in the mood to argue. He was strangely relieved to see Malik home, and he’d been wanting company all day. “We’ll play something you like. Anything you want...if it’ll get you to quit fucking complaining.”

“When was I complaining?” Malik asked. Bakura didn’t bother to dignify that with a response. Then Malik’s eyes brightened as he seemed to fully realize what Bakura had said. “We can play anything I want? So, Donkey Kong Country Tropical Freeze?”

“Sure,” Bakura said. He finished up ordering a vegetable dish for Malik, and one of the few beef dishes available from the place for himself, and put the phone down. “The food will be here in about half an hour.”

Malik looked excited. “We need to finish the sixth world, and those last couple temples we didn’t complete. I’m sure we can do it. Well, not in half an hour, but we can keep playing after dinner.”

“Alright. I’ll even let you be Dixie,” Bakura said, being magnanimous.

Malik scoffed. “I don’t need to be Dixie. I can handle being Donkey—you need to be Dixie, or you’ll be dying every five seconds.”

Bakura didn’t even feel like retorting, and just gave Malik a smile. “Anything you want, Sunshine.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did end up deciding to include sex scenes in this fic. This chapter is pretty much a PWP. Well, there is one plot related thing here, but it won’t be obvious yet what it is.

Malik stretched his arms over his head, giving Bakura a significant look. He looked down at himself, then back up at Bakura with a pointed expression.

“What?”

“Have you noticed I got a new shirt?”

Bakura snorted. “I don’t notice your fashion statements.” He reached out and ran a single finger over Malik’s exposed midriff, making Malik squirm a bit. “I only notice the parts your clothes don’t cover.”

Malik laughed and reached down to protect his stomach. “This isn’t a fashion statement, though. This shirt looks awful—it’s not my color at all, and it’s obviously cheaply made.”

“Obvious to you, I guess. It looks the same as anything else you wear to me.”

Malik rolled his eyes. “The point is, I didn’t get it for fashion, I got it for you.”

Bakura raised an eyebrow. “You got an ugly shirt to wear for me...why?”

“Because it was really cheap, and I don’t like it.” Malik lidded his eyes. “So I wouldn’t mind if you cut it off of me.”

Bakura’s eyes immediately lit up. Malik had never before let Bakura rip or cut any of his clothing—he was too attached to all his fancy garments. “You should have said so.” Bakura pulled his pocket knife out and flicked it open, quickly swinging himself around to straddle Malik on the couch. He held the knife up between them, looking at Malik with excitement.

But then he set the knife aside and reached out to capture one of Malik’s nipples between his thumb and forefinger, making Malik take in a sharp breath. He did the same with the other nipple, then rolled them both between his fingers through the thin fabric of the shirt. Malik leaned into him, his breath starting to come faster.

Bakura leaned in to press their lips together, and Malik’s hands came to rest on his hips. Bakura circled his fingers around the outside of Malik’s nipples before taking the stiffened buds between his fingertips again and giving them a light pinch and a gentle tug, drawing another gasp from Malik. He licked at Malik’s lips, and Malik opened his mouth to let his tongue inside. Their tongues slid around each other, exploring each other’s mouths for the thousandth time. Bakura continued to play with Malik’s nipples as they kissed until Malik was panting against his mouth, his lips stilled, too distracted by the pleasure to properly kiss him any more.

Bakura drew back. “Do you want it off?” he asked in a low voice, nodding to Malik’s shirt.

Malik gave an emphatic nod, his eyes already hazy with lust, and Bakura picked up the knife again. He slashed down the middle of Malik’s shirt, splitting the front in half in one quick motion without so much a nicking Malik’s skin. Then he placed two more expert cuts across the sleeveless shoulders of the shirt, allowing a simple shrug from Malik to let the shirt fall off of his body.

Malik buried his hand in Bakura’s hair, grabbing his head and pulling it down to his chest. Bakura let himself be led, leaning down to latch his mouth onto Malik’s right nipple. He circled his tongue, setting the knife aside again so he could use his other hand to grab Malik’s now bare left nipple. Malik’s breath picked up again as Bakura closed his teeth around the hard peak of Malik’s nipple, nipping gently. He flicked at it with his tongue until Malik gasped, “Bedroom. Now.”

Bakura smiled and stood, and Malik did the same, both of them rushing to the bedroom. Bakura lay down on the bed, and Malik jumped up to straddle him. Then a devious smile appeared on his face as he pulled something from behind his back, and Bakura’s eyes widened as he saw that Malik had picked up his knife.

Malik brought the knife down towards Bakura’s chest, and Bakura’s eyes followed it down. Suddenly, he noticed the shirt he had on that day. “No! Wait!”

Malik scowled at Bakura’s shirt, which was a black T-shirt imprinted with the words _Eating ass is the only ethical consumption under capitalism!_

“This is my favorite shirt! You can cut up any of the others, but not this one.”

Malik rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face, as he set the knife aside. “That shirt is so fucking stupid.”

Bakura smirked. “You love it.”

“What? Eating ass, or your dumb jokes?”

Bakura gave him a smug smile. “Both.”

Malik sighed and gave Bakura an indulgent look, pulling the shirt over his head with one quick motion and then tossing the undamaged garment to the floor. They both struggled out of their pants, and then Malik picked up the knife again. “These aren’t your favorite boxers or anything, are they?”

Bakura shook his head, his breath coming quicker as Malik lowered the knife again. Malik cut through the waistband near his hip, making quick work of the underwear before leaning down to lick and kiss at the tip of Bakura’s erection.

Bakura was already starting to arch up, but Malik took his mouth away. He rolled onto his back next to Bakura. “Flip around and get on top.”

Bakura understood what he wanted, and turned so he was facing Malik’s feet, then climbed over top of him, on his hands and knees. As Malik began drawing his tongue across Bakura’s balls, Bakura picked up the knife a final time and cut Malik’s boxers away before throwing the blade to the floor.

Bakura leaned down and pressed his tongue against the tip of Malik’s cock, lapping at the slit as he reached down to cup Malik’s balls. He teased his tongue around the ridge for a few moments before finally sliding Malik’s cock all the way into his mouth. As Malik took one of Bakura’s balls into his mouth, Bakura started moving his head, slipping his lips all the way to the base before pulling back to suck on the tip and flick at it with his tongue.

Malik couldn’t seem to help rocking his hips as he released Bakura’s ball from his mouth and started licking the skin again. He licked backwards, using his hands to guide Bakura’s hips until he reached his asshole. Bakura gave a muffled squeak as Malik drew his tongue around the outside of Bakura’s hole.

For a bit Bakura sucked more vigorously in excitement, bobbing his head quickly, but as Malik’s tongue continued to flutter over the sensitive skin of his entrance, he shivered and paused, whimpering around Malik’s cock.

He tried to begin moving his head again, but his movements were sluggish; he was too distracted by the intense sensation to concentrate on anything else. Then Malik’s tongue was gone from his skin, his hips being shifted again, and a few seconds later Malik swallowed his cock all the way down and Bakura moaned loud and low in his throat.

Bakura rocked his hips, and Malik stayed mostly still, letting Bakura guide the movements as Bakura swirled his tongue around the head of Malik’s dick.

Bakura felt a spit-slick finger poking at his entrance, and he rocked back harder to encourage it. Two of Malik’s fingers penetrated him, and Bakura swallowed and pushed Malik’s cock all the way to the back of his throat. Malik moaned around Bakura’s dick, raising his head a little to take it deeper.

Bakura’s nails dug into Malik’s thighs as Malik’s fingers found the right spot inside him. Bakura paused for just a second, then started moving again, quickly, swaying his whole body, drawing his own dick in and out of Malik’s mouth as Malik did the same to him, sucking hard and taking him in as deep as he could.

Then it was Malik who lost control, and Bakura felt Malik’s fingers leave him, Malik’s hands coming up to his hips and squeezing hard enough that Bakura knew he’d earn fingertip-shaped bruises. Malik breathed heavily, and Bakura was encouraged to redouble his efforts at hearing Malik’s soft moans muffled by Bakura’s own dick.

He felt Malik’s cock pulse in his mouth, his hips twitching up with desperation, and for just a few seconds he slowed down, deliberately drawing Malik’s erection in and out of his mouth as he glided his tongue along the soft skin, circling it over the spots he knew drove Malik the most crazy, along the ridge and over the slit and against the foreskin. Malik whined with need, and Bakura sped up again. He took him all the way in over and over at a fast pace with his tongue flattened and pushing against the sensitive skin, tasting the liquid continually leaking from the tip. Malik’s hands left his hips to bury themselves in his hair, tugging, and Bakura made a small sound of pleasure as he kept up his pace. It was less than a minute before Malik released Bakura’s cock from his mouth and threw his head back to cry out with orgasm, yelling Bakura’s name.

Bakura applied suction as Malik spasmed and came, swallowing every bit. Before Malik was done, he latched his mouth back onto Bakura’s cock, groaning around it as he emptied himself. When Malik was finally spent, Bakura began thrusting into Malik’s mouth. Malik let him, opening his throat and working his tongue, allowing Bakura’s cock to go as deep as he could take it until Bakura called out, coming down Malik’s throat. Malik sucked and swallowed, taking in everything Bakura had until Bakura was satiated and finally went limp with satisfaction.

For a few seconds they lay like that, both still breathing heavily, muscles pleasantly exhausted and weak from their completion. Then Bakura dragged himself up and flipped back around rightways, collapsing against Malik’s side. Malik put his arm around him, and Bakura snuggled into the crook of his arm. He leaned in to trail little kisses along Malik’s collarbone, and Malik sighed happily.  
  
The light in the room seemed especially bright, and Bakura closed his eyes to it. He felt a kiss on the top of his head, and he mimicked Malik’s sigh as Malik’s hands petted along the damp skin of his stomach and chest.

Bakura’s eyes drifted open again briefly, and he felt dizzy for a moment at how vibrant the colors of their bedspread suddenly seemed, though it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. But he closed his eyes again as everything seemed to pulse around him as if with heka, the brightness of the light making him want to curl closer to Malik and relax in the bliss of the afterglow.

Malik continued to stroke his skin, and Bakura idly did the same to him, until a few minutes later when his stomach growled.

“Mm. You should make me dinner.”

Malik chuckled softly, giving a playful tug to Bakura’s hair. “Asshole.”


	7. Chapter 7

Malik lay on his back on the couch, Bakura curled up on top of him, his head on Malik’s chest. Malik idly stroked Bakura’s hair and ran his fingers along Bakura’s bare back as the nosleep podcast played from their computer’s speakers. Contrary to the name of the show they were listening to, Bakura’s breathing was slowing, his eyes drifting closed.

When the story ended, Malik sighed and poked Bakura. “Are you really falling asleep?”

“Huh?” Bakura said, starting as he became more alert. But he quickly settled back down, nuzzling into Malik’s chest. “I dunno, I’m just tired.”

“It’s not even 9PM. I swear, you’re like an old man.”

“I’m three thousand years old,” Bakura retorted. “I deserve some rest.”

“Well, I’m still young,” Malik said. “I ought to be out partying on a Friday night.”

Bakura yawned. “I’m not stopping you.”

“I don’t want to go alone. That would be boring. You should come with me.”

“You really think I want to deal with being out in a smelly, crowded bar where the racket is so loud we can’t even hear each other and the drinks are about ten times more expensive than they’d be if we just bought a bottle at the store?” Bakura scoffed. “And do you seriously expect me to believe you’d actually enjoy that? You don’t even like people. Why would you want to go to a place where there are a hundred of them?”

“Well, alright, I guess going to a place like that might not be my favorite thing,” Malik conceded. “But we don’t have to go to a club. I just want to...get out, you know? We could go to a restaurant. Or even just out for a walk to get some fresh air. Anything other than staying in _again_.”

“I hate fresh air. And I don’t need a restaurant when I have you.”

“You know I don’t always feel like cooking.”

“That’s why we also have a phone to order takeout.”

Malik sighed. “Alright, well what about going swimming? Maybe we could even go to a pool that also has a jacuzzi? You like baths, so I don’t see why you wouldn’t like that.”

“What, stewing in the filth of a bunch of strangers? I had my fill of bathing in public when I had to bathe in the Nile. Plus, we can’t fuck in a public jacuzzi. Our bath at home is much better.”

Malik made a sound of irritation. “Fine, what about an arcade? And before you say we have video games at home, there are different ones at the arcade, and playing on a real arcade cabinet is a different experience than playing on the computer or a TV. Plus they have games that are impossible to play at home...you know, like skeeball.”

“Have you ever even played skeeball?”

“No. But maybe I’d like to.”

Bakura shrugged. “Fine, I guess going to an arcade sounds like it could be a little fun. Not tonight though. I really am tired.”

“Alright, I’m going to hold you to that, though. Every time I ask for us to go out, you just blow me off and it never ends up happening,” Malik huffed. “So what do you want to do tonight then, just go to bed?”

Bakura tilted his face up towards Malik and lidded his eyes. “Actually...now that you made me think of it, fucking in the bath sounds pretty good.”

Malik laughed and rolled his eyes. “Oh, so you’re not too tired for sex?”

“I’m never too tired for that.” Bakura smirked.

“Alright, but only if you promise to go to an arcade with me the next night you’re not exhausted.”

“Okay, okay, I will.”

 

* * *

 

Bakura and Malik lay together on their bed, hair still damp. They hadn’t bothered getting dressed, and lay side by side with their arms around each other, both still buzzing with pleasant feelings as their hands wandered over each other’s skin.

“See?” Bakura said. “Wasn’t that more enjoyable than going to a public pool with tons of people where we wouldn’t even be able to hold hands?”

“Yeah, you do have a point,” Malik admitted.

Bakura smiled. His entire body thrummed with satisfaction and pleasant sleepiness. It was late now. They’d taken their time bathing, soaking in the bath and kissing and teasing each other until Bakura had finally climbed into Malik’s lap and ridden him, and then they’d drained the tub and taken a shower to really get clean, washing and massaging each other until they wanted each other again and took turns attacking each other with mouths and tongues until they were both satiated and exhausted.

"Still, I really do want to go out sometime," Malik said. Bakura knew Malik felt as good as he did at the moment, but even so, apparently Malik still hadn’t forgotten their earlier conversation. "I’m serious, Bakura.”

“I know. I said I’d go to the arcade with you. It really doesn’t sound bad,” Bakura reiterated. “But I’m just not a person who wants to go out all the time. If you’re feeling cooped up and you think it’s boring to go out alone, why don’t you go out with Ryou sometime? Or Rishid or Ishizu? How long has it been since you’ve seen your siblings anyways?”

Malik shrugged. “I dunno.”

Bakura sat up a little and gave Malik a questioning look. “What, are you guys fighting or something?”

Malik laughed. “I’m always fighting with Ishizu.”

“Well, what then? Do you not want to see them?”

“It’s not that,” Malik said, shrugging again. He pulled Bakura back down, and began scratching his head.

Bakura sighed from the enjoyment of Malik’s fingers on his scalp, but went on, “Then what? Is something wrong, Malik? Like in general?”

“No, not really,” Malik said, looking surprised. “You’re being weird, Bakura.”

“Am not.”

“You totally are.”

“Shut up.”

“No.” Malik stuck his tongue out at Bakura. Then he became a bit more serious and said, “What made you ask that, then?”

“Fine, I wouldn’t normally mention it, but…” Bakura drew his eyebrows together. “You just seem like you’re in a bad mood a lot of the time. And then you never want to talk about it, and act like it didn’t even happen.”

“What do you mean? When am I in a bad mood?”

“See. Just like that,” Bakura said triumphantly.

Malik rolled his eyes, giving Bakura an indulgent look. “That was a total trap. There’s no answer I could have given where you wouldn’t be right.”

Bakura laughed, and Malik went on, “I just really don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, it’s not like we fight or anything. Well, you know...actually fight. What is it you think I’m doing that makes me seem like I’m in a bad mood?”

“You just slam doors sometimes, make a lot of noise, and seem irritable in general. Granted, it never really lasts more than a couple minutes—“

Malik scoffed. “A couple minutes? Seriously? That hardly counts as a bad mood. I’d think you of all people would understand that it’s not reasonable to expect someone to be perfectly cheerful every minute of the day.”

“Alright, alright. If there’s really nothing wrong, forget I said anything.”

“Seriously, there’s not. Nothing other than the usual...you know, all my stuff from the past, from childhood. And I’ve already talked to you about that a hundred times.” Malik’s voice quieted, and he gave Bakura a soft look. “You’re the only one I can talk to about those things.”

Bakura looked down. “Yeah...same.”

Malik pulled Bakura to him and gave him a firm kiss. “I just get stir crazy sometimes. Especially lately, with the days being so short. It seems like it gets dark earlier all the time. I just really want to get out of the apartment occasionally. With _you_. That’s all.”

Bakura snickered. “What, you want me to take you on a date?”

“Maybe I do,” Malik said loftily.

“Oh? You want a little romance before you take me to bed next time?” Bakura teased.

“What if I did?” Malik joked, bopping Bakura on the nose.

“Well, I think I could romance you here at home better than I could at an arcade,” Bakura said, giving Malik a sultry smile. “Think you’d like that?”

“Hmm...depends what you have in mind.”

Bakura gave Malik a devious look. “Maybe I’ll surprise you.” Then he sobered as he reached out to card his fingers through Malik’s hair and brush a quick kiss against his forehead. “I really will go to the arcade with you sometime, though, if it’s that important to you.”

“Thanks,” Malik grunted, looking a little embarrassed now. “You totally are being weird.”

“I’m just saying I’ll go. It’s not that big of a deal,” Bakura said. He paused. “I just...well, maybe it’s _weird_ for me to say it straight out, but I really have been tired lately. You know I’ve always had nightmares, but it seems like it’s been worse lately. It’s kind of wearing me out. It takes a lot of energy for me to go out in public, and I just don’t have it recently.”

Malik glanced down at the cuts across Bakura’s arm and chest, still not fully healed. “I...yeah, I should have realized. It’s not actually that important that we go play skeeball. You don’t have to drag yourself out if you’re not feeling well. And it’s not like I don’t have fun with you here at home.”

“Well, I’d hope so,” Bakura said sarcastically. Then he had an idea and said, “And hey, if you want to party, since neither of us would have fun in a crowded club, we could always get a bottle of whiskey and party here at home this weekend.”

“That doesn’t sound half bad.”

“Good.” Bakura stretched and yawned. “Ugh, you’re right, tonight has been weird. You know, I think communicating like a normal person wears me out, too.”

Malik let out a small laugh. “Yeah.” He pulled Bakura closer to him and settled down into his warmth, closing his eyes.

“I still might think up that surprise for you, though,” Bakura whispered before closing his own eyes, and he didn’t think he imagined Malik’s little squirm of delight.


	8. Chapter 8

Bakura was at his chair in front of the computer, watching Let’s Play videos.

Malik was sitting at the kitchen table, playing on his phone.

Often, after dinner, Malik liked to have a little quiet time to himself.

Bakura didn’t mind. It gave him time to watch gaming videos on YouTube, which Malik wasn’t really interested in. Malik liked video games well enough if he was playing them with Bakura, but he’d always said he didn’t see the point in watching strangers play a game. Bakura couldn’t explain to him why it was entertaining. Sometimes Bakura idly thought about making his own series, though somehow he never really got around to doing it.

He heard Malik scoff at something from the kitchen, and bit his tongue to keep himself from calling out to ask what stupid thing online had annoyed him. He knew Malik wanted to be left alone.

It didn’t bother Bakura to be by himself, not interacting with anyone, but Bakura didn’t think he _needed_  the time alone the way Malik did. It was probably due to a difference in their upbringing...or lack of, in Bakura’s case.

Bakura had always been a solitary creature. He was so used to being alone, having grown up by himself in the desert, with only himself to rely on and knowing that he couldn’t trust another soul to look out for him, that being around other people was now more of a stressful annoyance than anything. Socializing left him feeling drained and tired.

Of course, he didn’t feel that way about being around Malik. Malik was the one person whose presence made him feel just as calm and comfortable as being alone did—moreso, even.

He hadn’t even known that was possible. Before being in Ryou’s head, it had been millennia since he’d actually enjoyed interacting with another person. He vaguely remembered enjoying being around his family, but that was so long ago, and he was so young, and his memories were scrambled—maybe because of Zorc, or maybe because of being in the Ring so long—but he didn’t like to think about it.

But then there had been Ryou and he’d actually connected with another soul.

But even Ryou tired him out after a while. It was only Malik whose presence seemed to energize him rather than drain him.

He thought Malik felt much the same way about him—Malik was quite introverted as well, not relating at all to most other people, not being able to tolerate those so different from him, but finding camaraderie in Bakura who was so similar to him, in a way that had made them feel familiar to each other from the very start.

But it was a bit different for Malik. He’d grown up locked underground with multiple other people, isolated in a different way than Bakura was. Bakura had had the entire desert under the open sky, but no other people. Malik had had a tomb, caged by stone walls and kept away from most of society, but trapped in small space with his few relatives, never able to be far from them.

Bakura supposed that was also why he was totally fine with cocooning himself in the safety of their apartment, never going out, while Malik longed for the freedom of being outdoors underneath the vast sky.

Understanding the mortals had never come naturally to him, even before he’d become immortal himself, but he understood Malik in an effortless way he didn’t question.

So he understood why Malik needed a bit of time to himself, even if most of the time Malik preferred to be near Bakura, even if most of the time Bakura was an exception to Malik’s need for solitude.

They both hated other people, but Malik hated them a little less than Bakura did because he’d grown up with a couple people he cared for, and he needed to be alone more often for the same reason.

But Bakura had lost track of time, distracted by his own thoughts. It had been more than a hour now since Malik had finished cleaning up after dinner and retreated to his phone. So Malik would be ready to see him again. And Bakura was tired of being alone already, even in the short time apart, even being separated only by a single room. He’d been alone for so long in his thousands of years of existence, and that meant his craving for solitude was only exceeded by his craving to be near the one person whose presence made him feel better than being alone.

It scared him, in a way, that he couldn’t really stand being alone for long periods anymore. He’d gotten too used to Malik’s existence in his life, too used to having someone he could rely on, someone he actually wanted to be near, and how long had it even been now since he’d been with Malik almost constantly?

But he let those thoughts fall away as he walked stealthily into the kitchen, past Malik, who was too absorbed in his phone to notice him. Bakura went to the refrigerator and got out two bottles. Malik only looked up when Bakura slammed both bottles down onto the table.

Malik took a few seconds to finish whatever he was doing on his phone and then put it down.

“I did promise you alcohol,” Bakura said with a smirk. He indicated the two bottles—one of sake, and one of whiskey. He’d gotten the sake because he knew Malik liked to start with something with lower alcohol content before moving on to the harder stuff later in the evening.

Malik looked at the bottles and smiled. “Alright, so what’s the plan?”

Bakura looked nonplussed for a second. After thinking about it for a few seconds he said, “We can play a game.”

“What game?”

“Hold on.” Bakura darted off, and after rooting around in their closet for a few minutes, eventually returned with their Jenga set.

“You have to take a drink before removing a piece,” Bakura announced.

Malik gave him a measured look as he removed the tower from the box and set it on the table. “Alright, but let’s make it interesting.”

Bakura gave him a smirk. “What did you have in mind?”

Malik thought for a moment. “If I win, you have to do the dishes for a whole week.”

Bakura’s smirk grew wider and he narrowed his eyes. “And if I win, you can’t nag me about doing any chores for a whole week.”

Malik rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine.”

Bakura went to grab some glasses and poured some sake into Malik’s glass, and a couple shots of bourbon into his own tumbler.

“You won’t win, though,” Malik added.

Bakura laughed. “We’ll see.”

Malik stared at the tower, and Bakura said, “Well, your drink has a lower alcohol content, so you should at least go first.”

Malik nodded and easily pulled out a piece, then took a swig of his sake.

Bakura took his turn, then took a sip of his whiskey.

“Hey, you barely drank anything!”

“Like I said, my drink has a way higher alcohol content. Do you think I’m trying to lose?”

Malik rolled his eyes and pulled out another piece, taking a more modest sip of his drink afterwards.

Bakura followed suit, and it went on like that, until Malik had drained his drink and Bakura insisted he switch to the harder stuff.

By that time the tower was teetering and both were feeling a bit woozy.

Malik carefully pulled out another piece, though his hand shook and he just barely managed to get it out without the tower toppling.

“Pure luck,” Bakura said. He deftly swiped another piece from the stack, then downed a shot.

“You’re—you’re cheating!” Malik exclaimed.

“How?” Bakura demanded. “I’m just good.”

Malik gave him a scowl and then reached out to slowly extricate another block. The tower wobbled, but didn’t quite fall, and Malik gave Bakura a triumphant smirk before taking another sip of his drink.

His celebrating didn’t last long, though, as Bakura’s nimble fingers quickly pulled out another piece, the tower barely moving as he did. Bakura smirked at him and took another drink.

Malik glared, and his eyebrows drew together in concentration as his fingers closed around one of the few pieces left that were in a level of the tower that still had three pieces instead of only two.

Suddenly, Malik’s phone rang, and the blaring tone caused Malik to jerk his hand, sending the entire tower toppling down onto the table.

Bakura threw back his head and laughed as Malik snatched up his phone and hit the button to accept the call.

“What‽” he screamed.

“Brother…” Ishizu’s soft voice came from the speaker.

“Uh...erm...I’m sorry, Shis-Sister...I, uh, see…” Malik said, slurring.

“Malik...are you drunk?” she asked, incredulous.

“Um...a little…”

“How?” Ishizu demanded. “How is it even possible for you to be drunk when you’re—“

A loud blast of static came from the phone and Malik winced, holding it away from his ear for a moment.

“S-sorry I, I couldn’t hear you,” Malik said.

A quiet sigh came from the phone. “Alright. Alright. I understand.”

Malik gave Bakura a look of confusion, still holding the phone away from himself, as if he’d forgotten it was there momentarily.

“Are you still with Bakura?”

The question from the phone was loud enough for Bakura to hear it, and he scowled. It seemed to take Malik a moment to register these events.

“Of course!” Malik yelled viciously a few seconds later when her words finally seemed to penetrate his brain. He was apparently far too drunk to control his tongue.

“No...no...it’s important that you stay near Bakura...Malik, you don’t understand—”

Another blast of static came from the phone and Malik crinkled his forehead, bringing his hand up to grip his own face.

“Sister, I...I can’t talk right now.” Malik scrunched up his face again. “The, um, the talky-thing, like, the thing that makes the phone work? It’s not good.”

“Yes. Your reception is bad. I’ll...call you later.”

“Sorry,” Malik said, and then he hung up the phone.

“Did you just hang up on her?” Bakura laughed. “She’s gonna be pissed.”

“Whatever.” Malik shook his head. “Anyways, she knows that phones barely work in this place. Not my fault.”

“More importantly, you lost,” Bakura said, giving Malik an evil smile.

“That’s not fair!” Malik exclaimed. “The phone—“

“Doesn’t matter.” Bakura shook his head. “I won. And don’t forget what we bet on.”

“I hate you.” Malik slammed his head down onto the table.

Bakura took another swig of his drink, then pulled a pack of cards from his pocket. “Wanna play Duel Monsters? If you’re that mad about losing, we could make another bet…”

Malik smiled and grabbed the cards from Bakura, taking another drink from his glass as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering, Ryou is tagged because he’s actually going to be kind of important later on in the story, but he won’t show up for a while yet.


	9. Chapter 9

Bakura rolled on the couch, his peals of laughter echoing off the walls as Malik stared down at him with a murderous glare.

“Shut up! It’s not funny! I’ll kill you!”

Bakura managed to catch his breath enough to say, “You _are_...killing me! I’m going to hyperventilate and...d-die…” Then he broke into gales of laughter again, unable to control himself.

“Fuck you! Do you think I wanted this? I didn’t tell them to do this!”

Bakura wiped away his tears of laughter, finally managing to calm down a bit. “It’s still your fault, though. If you’d listened to me this wouldn’t have happened. I told you I’d cut your hair for you. I’m great at it.”

“You saw off the ends of your hair with a fucking knife!” Malik exclaimed.

“And it looks way better than yours does now.”

Malik scowled, crossing his arms and turning away from Bakura. He obviously couldn’t even argue with that statement.

Bakura broke into fresh laughter upon seeing the back of Malik’s head. He was actually trying to stop himself now, but he couldn't help it.

It really was awful. He didn’t know how it was even possible for the barber to have messed it up so badly. Malik had only wanted a few inches trimmed off, his hair having grown just a bit too long for his tastes. He’d said he wanted his hair to be an inch or two above his shoulders.

But this….it wasn’t just that it was short. It was that it wasn’t even a uniform length. In some places he was almost bald, while in others his hair was still several inches long, and other places had lengths that were everywhere in between those two extremes. On top of it all, it seemed Malik had a couple cowlicks, and now that they were no longer weighed down by longer hair, certain sections of his hair stuck up comically.

“You know, I’ll bet that scar under your eye isn’t even from some epic battle with a tomb guard,” Malik suddenly said, sounding sulky. “You probably accidentally stabbed yourself in the face when you were trying to cut your own hair.”

Bakura laughed. “What?”

“I’ll bet you did! So don’t act like you definitely would have done a better job.”

Bakura continued laughing and ignored the ridiculous comment. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, wiping the tears away again as he tried to get control of himself. He glanced at the back of Malik’s head again, and for a moment he thought he’d start laughing once more, but then he noticed something.

“Malik, what the hell? They butchered you.”

“I know, you ass.” Malik was still fuming.

“No, I mean literally. Do you realize you’re bleeding?”

Malik reflexively touched the back of his head and then turned to Bakura with a wince. He looked down at his finger to see a small bit of blood.

“How the fuck did that even happen?” Bakura got up for a closer examination. “And is this a bruise? What did they do to you?”

Malik threw up his hands. “I have no fucking clue! You know, those bastards are just lucky my other personality isn’t around anymore. He would have murdered every one of them for this.”

Bakura sighed, shaking his head as he assessed the damage. “Stay there. Let me go get something to clean that up for you.”

A few minutes later, Malik sat on the floor between Bakura’s knees as Bakura worked at his head with a damp cloth. He’d found a few more cuts in addition to the first one he’d noticed, but they were much smaller.

Once he was nearly done cleaning Malik‘s injuries, Bakura said, “Seriously, how did this happen? Did you not notice anything the barber was doing?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Bakura gave the back of Malik’s head a worried look. “Um...are you sure your other personality _isn’t_ back?”

“You’re joking, right?” Malik said. Bakura saw his shoulders tense up.

“I just don’t see how you could be totally oblivious to all of this. You’re not losing time again, are you?”

“No!” Malik exclaimed. “I was just zoned out looking down at my phone, alright? They’re professionals, I didn’t think I’d have to watch the bastard every second to make sure he didn’t chop half my hair off down to the scalp!”

“And you didn’t even notice when he cut you?” Bakura pressed.

“It’s barely bleeding,” Malik said. “Don’t head wounds bleed a ton even when they’re not that bad? So this is less than nothing. I’ve experienced too much real pain in my life to take any notice of a little scratch.”

“Yeah, I guess I can understand that.”

“I was just really absorbed in a game on my phone. Can you quit making me feel stupid about it?”

Bakura bit his tongue before he could say that he’d definitely be saying _I told you so_ if he got a call from the police about a bloodbath at the local barber shop. He didn’t think Malik would take that joke very well. “So what did you do when you finally noticed?”

Malik paused for a moment before answering. “When I finally looked up and saw this fucking mess, I cursed them out and refused to pay and stormed out.”

“Well...at least you didn’t _pay_  for this.”

“Yeah. So will you stop interrogating me about it now? I told you I didn’t want to talk about it. I’d really rather forget it happened.”

“Fine, fine.” Bakura shrugged, deciding to drop it now that Malik had actually given him an explanation. “Well, it’ll grow back, at least.”

“I suppose it’s not the end of the world. Just don’t fucking mention it again, alright? And no more laughing at me!”

Bakura didn’t answer, but placed a quick kiss on one of the bare spots on Malik’s head.

 

* * *

 

That night, at dinner, Bakura tried very hard to ignore Malik’s ridiculous haircut as he ate the steak Malik had prepared for him. Malik was eating some kind of bean dish. Bakura could never remember the name of it.

They didn’t talk much, Malik still seeming to be in an irritable mood.

After they finished their food, Malik shot Bakura a hard look and grumbled, “If you don’t rinse your dishes and put them in the dishwasher, I won’t fuck you for a month.”

“Yeah, right,” Bakura laughed.

“Fine, then, I won’t...I won’t be making you any more meat for dinner. You’ll eat what I’m having or nothing.”

Bakura rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright.” He went to scrape his dishes and throw them in the dishwasher, deciding to be a little nice since Malik had had such a tough day. He didn’t even bother to mention the fact that, by trying to coerce him into doing chores, Malik was violating the terms of the bet he’d lost to Bakura a few nights ago over their game of Jenga. It really wasn’t very fair, considering Bakura had been upholding the terms of the bet they’d made right after that one—Bakura had lost that one when Malik had beaten him at Duel Monsters, which meant he couldn’t ask Malik to play Monopoly for an entire week. But he supposed it wasn’t worth arguing with Malik about a silly drunken bet when Malik was in a mood like this, so he kept his mouth shut.

It was worth it, though, because after the dishes were in the washer, Malik seemed to be in a more cheerful mood and they spent the rest of the night playing video games together, laughing and bumping their shoulders together as they worked with each other to solve the next temple in the game they had been trying to beat for the last month.


	10. Chapter 10

Bakura jiggled his leg in anticipation as he waited for Malik to finish with his shower. When he finally heard the water turn off, he got up and walked to the bathroom door, giving it a tap and asking, “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Malik called through the door.

Bakura swung the door open. Malik’s back was to him, but the mirror he was standing in front of allowed Bakura to see Malik’s eyes widen when he caught sight of Bakura’s reflection behind him.

Malik froze in the motion of combing what was left of his hair and slowly turned around to get a better look at Bakura.

Malik raised an eyebrow. “Bakura, what are you wearing?”

“Who’s Bakura? I have no ren. I’m the Thief King.”

Bakura watched as Malik’s eyes raked over his body, taking in the blood red robe draped over his shoulders, open to reveal his bare chest and the royal purple shenti which was the only other item of clothing he wore.

Malik let out a nervous little laugh as he set his brush down on the counter. “The Thief King? Really?”

“Surely you’ve heard of me.” Bakura gave him a haughty look.

Malik pretended to think, putting a finger to his lips. “Come to think of it, I have read about you in my studies.”

Bakura couldn’t help smiling as he saw that Malik was going along with his game. “I’m not surprised they’ve written about me. What do the scrolls about me say?”

“They say you’re a really bad guy. An infamous criminal. The scourge of the land. You steal from the dead, no matter how well guarded...and worse...you’ve defied the Pharaoh.”

“All true,” Bakura said, a glint of pride in his eyes. “You must be afraid of me, then.”

Malik looked away for a moment, and Bakura thought he saw a blush beginning to color his cheeks.

But then Malik turned back and smirked at him. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not that scary.”

“But I am. Maybe you’re just brave.” Bakura looked around the bathroom, pretending as if he were seeing it for the first time. “I’ve never been here before. What is this place?” He wanted to let Malik decide exactly how their game would go, what the time and place would be.

“This is…” Malik paused. “This is where I grew up. Because my family serves the Pharaoh, I’m not allowed to leave this tomb.”

Bakura approached him, reaching out to let his fingers trail over his cheek as he gave him a hungry smile. “You’re much too pretty to be locked up in a place like this.”

Malik shoved his hand away. “I didn’t say you could touch me!” he spat, though Bakura could see he was trying hard not to smile.

Bakura got the message to try another tactic. “You’ve got some real fire in you. You seem much too strong to be the type to bow down and kiss the Pharaoh’s feet.”

“Shut up!” Malik exclaimed.

“It was a compliment,” Bakura said. “Are you disgusted by me, then? For all the _evil_  things I’ve done?”

“No, I…” Malik gave him an uncharacteristically shy smile. “I’ve always kind of...admired the way you stood up to the Pharaoh. The way I wish I could.”

Bakura grinned. Malik had admitted to him once before that he had looked up to the Thief King as a child—that was why Bakura had thought he’d like this game—but it was no less flattering to hear it the second time.

“You can,” Bakura said. “You can leave with me right now.”

Malik looked down. “I...shouldn’t.”

“Are you sure you’re not afraid?”

“Of you?” Malik scoffed. “No. You’re not fearsome at all. And you’re much shorter than I expected.”

Bakura scowled at him, putting his hands on his hips. “You brat.”

“You should go,” Malik said quietly. “I’ll get in trouble.”

“You know…” Bakura put his hand in the pocket of his robe. “I had a dream that in another life, I promised you a surprise. So I made something for you.”

Malik looked up with interest. “What is it?”

“Well...it has gold...and jewels…”

Malik gave him a sardonic smile. “Made it? Or stole it?”

“Both.” When Malik gave him a confused look, Bakura said, “I told you it’s a surprise. If you want to find out what it is, leave with me, and I’ll give it to you.”

Malik leaned back against the counter. “Think you can buy me that easily with gold and jewels, do you?”

“No. I think you deserve to be free. And you’re much too smart and too tough to throw your life away down here. You should see the sun.”

Malik pretended to deliberate for a moment, then put on his most arrogant look and said, “You’re right. I deserve much better than this. All of my amazing talents are really being wasted down here.”

“Then come with me.”

“Alright. But don’t think I owe you anything! I’m only leaving because I want to.”

“Of course.” Bakura pulled his robe off with flair. “If we’re going outside, you should put some clothes on.” He walked to Malik, still naked after his shower, and wrapped the robe around his shoulders.

He saw Malik shiver a little as he reached for his hand and led him out of the bathroom and to their bedroom. He flicked the light off before they entered, leaving the bedside lamp and the glowing stars painted on the ceiling as the only sources of light.

Bakura went to the bed and lay on his back, looking up at the softly glowing stars, and Malik mimicked him.

“Being outside underneath the sky is nice,” Malik said, gazing at the painted sky on the ceiling.

“I thought you’d like it.” Bakura turned to him with a smile.

Then Bakura, quick as a cat, reached into the pocket of the robe Malik was now wearing and withdrew something.

Bakura held the item up for Malik to see and watched Malik’s eyes, shining in the bit of light permeating the dark, as he took in the sight.

It was a circlet made of twisted golden wire, the metal wrapped around itself again and again, and then wrapped around a sparkling yellow gemstone which had tines of the metal radiating outwards from it so that it resembled the sun.

For a moment, everything in the room seemed brighter, as if the lights had been turned on again, and Bakura could swear he saw the gemstone sun reflecting the brightness that wasn’t really there.

“It’s an anklet,” Bakura offered. “Someone like you should have beautiful, expensive things. I can tell just by looking at you.”

“You made this?” Malik breathed.

“Yeah. I stole the gold wire and the fire opal from—uh, tombs—and then I made this with them.” Bakura slid down the bed to take Malik’s ankle in his hands. “It gets really boring, you know, when you’re all by yourself out in the desert all the time. I’ve seen a lot of jewelry in my life—the tombs always have it—and I got curious about how stuff like this was made. Turns out it’s not too hard to make wire wrapped jewelry. So I decided to teach myself. I’ve made a lot of these pieces. It passes the time when you’re alone every day.”

Bakura slipped the golden circlet onto Malik’s ankle. “But I made this piece especially for you.” He bent down to give a little kiss to the top of Malik’s foot. “And I’m not alone anymore.”

He looked up and met Malik’s eyes, and Malik suddenly reached down to grab him roughly by his shoulders, pulling him up until they were face to face. An instant later Malik slid his hands to the back of his head and pulled him down to slam their lips together.

Malik kissed him hard, and Bakura kissed back just the same until Malik’s fingers loosened in his hair and he drew back a bit.

“I hoped you’d come,” Malik whispered against his mouth.

“Did you?” Bakura said, his voice hushed to match Malik’s.

“Yes,” Malik sighed. “Ever since I read about you when I was little...I imagined you coming to rescue me…and now you’re here...”

Malik had never told him _that_ before. “Oh,” he breathed. Things seemed suddenly bright again, and everything seemed somehow a little more solid. It gave Bakura an oddly pleasant vertigo for a second as he waited for the sensation to pass.

Malik gazed up at him. Bakura was too overwhelmed to think of anything to say, so he kissed him again instead, softer and sweeter this time.


	11. Chapter 11

Bakura heard a loud bang behind him, followed by the sound of sloshing, and he looked up from the book he was reading at the table, twisting around in his seat to see what the hell Malik was doing.

He saw Malik standing there, hands on his hips, tapping his foot in front of the two large buckets of soapy water he’d just slammed down onto the floor in front of him.

“We are cleaning the apartment today,” Malik said firmly.

“By _we,_ I’m sure you mean _you_.”

Malik grit his teeth. “Bakura, I do all the housework. You can’t even be arsed to clean up after yourself, let alone do actual chores. The absolute least you can do is help me with spring cleaning once a year.”

“Why the fuck don’t you just hire a maid? I’m sure you have the money for it.”

“That’s stupid. This apartment only has four rooms. It’s not enough work to bother hiring anyone.”

“If it’s barely any work, you don’t really need my help, do you?” Bakura smirked at him.

Malik clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes. “I can promise you that you won’t get one second of peace until you help me.”

Bakura sighed and finally set down _The Hellbound Heart_. “Gods, fine. Bastard. Let’s get this over with, then.”

Malik brightened considerably at Bakura’s acquiescence. “Alright. First we’re going to scrub the tile.” Malik indicated the large yellow sponges in the buckets of soapy water. “You can take the bathroom and I’ll take the kitchen.”

“We seriously have to get down on our hands and knees and scrub? Why the hell can’t you just use a mop?”

“We’ve lived here how long and you’re not aware that we don’t have a mop?” Malik gave him a condescending look. “We have never had a mop.”

“Well why the hell not?”

Malik shrugged. “I just didn’t see the point when we have such a small amount of tile. The kitchen is tiny and the bathroom is even smaller. It’ll barely take any time to scrub down the floors. And by the way, you ought to be thanking me for giving you the smaller room.”

Bakura let out a long-suffering sigh, looking up at the ceiling in exasperation. “Fine. But I swear to Set you’d better not complain about the job I do.”

“I won’t, as long as you even attempt to try. Seriously, Bakura, there are like three square meters of floor in there. It will take you less than ten minutes. You probably could have already been done by now if you’d just started instead of wasting time arguing. So just actually do a good job, alright?”

“Hand me the damn bucket.” Bakura scowled and held out his hands.

Malik gave him a satisfied smile and bent to pick up the bucket and give it to Bakura.

Bakura’s posture dipped a little as he grabbed the handle of the heavy bucket, then he trudged off to the bathroom.

He actually did do a decent job, not wanting to hear Malik whine about it. And he had to admit to himself that Malik was right—it really didn’t take very long. When he was through, he dumped the bucket of dirty water into the tub. Then he got an idea and put the bucket under the bathtub faucet, filling it again.

When he came back to the kitchen, Malik was still on his hands and knees, ass in the air as he scrubbed at the kitchen floor. It looked like he was almost done.

Malik turned when he heard Bakura let out a chuckle, and immediately got a face full of water as Bakura dumped the entire bucket onto his head.

Malik screamed in surprise and then tried to stand up, but the floor was so slippery his feet slid out from under him, and he would have gone crashing to the floor had Bakura not reached out to grab him by the arms and steady him.

Bakura laughed hysterically as Malik gave him a murderous glare through a curtain of wet hair.

Once Bakura finally got a hold of himself, he said, “Relax, it was clean water. I refilled the bucket when I was done. So I didn’t actually mess up your nice clean kitchen floor. And I did do a good job in the bathroom, by the way.”

Malik found his feet and snatched his arms away from Bakura’s grip. “I will kill you. You’re dead.”

Bakura just snickered, but before he knew it, Malik had bent down and grabbed the sponge from his bucket.

“Wait—“

Malik flung the sponge directly at his head. It slapped Bakura in the side of his face, soaking his hair on that side and splashing water all over his shirt before it slid down to the floor.

“You’ll pay for that.” Bakura quickly picked the sponge up and whipped it back at Malik, who tried to dodge it at the last second, but still got smacked in the shoulder.

Malik laughed and aimed a kick at his own bucket of water, knocking it over so that it spilled water all over Bakura’s socked feet.

Bakura glanced around, looking for something else he could use. But Malik had caught the sponge he’d thrown at him, and suddenly he was standing over him, wringing it out right over his head, soaking the rest of his hair.

Bakura reached up in an attempt to grab the sponge from him, but Malik held it out of his reach and then tossed it away. Bakura tried to dart off to go get it, but Malik blocked him with his body. Bakura faked left, then right, then finally managed to dodge Malik and go racing off. Malik gave chase, and only a few seconds later Malik was on him, and he tackled Bakura to the floor long before he could get to the place across the room where the sponge had landed.

Bakura struggled to get up, but Malik shifted his weight onto him, holding him down, his wet hair dripping onto Bakura’s face.

“You’re going to be really sorry,” Malik said, an evil glint in his eye.

Bakura gave him a falsely sweet, Ryou-like look. “I am sorry. Let me up.”

“No,” Malik said, smiling.

“I wasn’t lying. I did do a good job with the bathroom.”

“You’re going to wipe up every bit of this water from the floor.”

“Fine, fine. It won’t even take that long. Go get me some towels.” Bakura gave him a wide-eyed, entreating stare.

“Not yet.” The look on Malik’s face suddenly turned sultry, and he reached down to grab the hem of Bakura’s soaked T-shirt.

Bakura smiled and raised his arms, letting Malik strip the shirt from his body.

But as soon as the shirt was off, Malik’s eyes narrowed, his smile widening into an evil grin.

Bakura realized he’d been tricked and tried to squirm away, but Malik was heavier and stronger, and it was no use.

Malik leaned on top of him with all his weight, one arm across his chest holding him down. He slipped his other hand between their bodies, trailing his fingers lightly over Bakura’s stomach.

“Malik—Malik please—“

But Malik just smirked at him as his fingers began dancing over his exposed stomach.

Bakura couldn’t hold in his laughter as Malik began tickling him. As Malik continued he thrashed wildly, struggling to get away, but Malik was too strong and Bakura couldn’t budge him.

After a minute, Malik stopped to let Bakura catch his breath. Bakura looked up at him, face flushed, trying to stifle the last of his giggles.

Secretly Bakura liked this kind of affectionate play, but he would never admit it out loud. “Alright, you got me back. You can get off of me now.”

“I don’t think so,” Malik said, still with that wicked smile on his face. “You got my outfit wet.”

With that Malik began tickling him again, and Bakura squirmed and laughed as he pushed against Malik’s shoulders and tried to shove him away.

It went on longer this time, until Bakura was gasping for breath, and Bakura was beginning to think Malik would never stop until suddenly the phone rang, and Malik paused.

“You—you’d better get that. It—“ Bakura breathed heavily. “It could be your sister.”

“She can wait.”

“You know how pissed she’ll be if you don’t answer.”

Malik ignored what he’d said. “Lift your arms up.”

“What? No!”

“This is what you get for dumping water all over me instead of cleaning like you were supposed to.” With that Malik grabbed his wrists and hauled his arms over his head. He used one hand to hold his wrists in place as the other reached down to tickle underneath his arm.

Bakura began thrashing again, shrieking and laughing uncontrollably. He kicked and squirmed, but there was nothing he could do until Malik finally stopped a couple minutes later.

“Damn it, she’s calling again.”

Bakura hadn’t noticed that the phone had quit ringing, but it must have stopped and then started up again.

“You—you _have_ to answer it now.” Bakura tried to get his breath.

“I suppose,” Malik sighed. “But you’re going to dry up that water, and then you’re going to help me with the rest of the cleaning with no complaining. Right?”

Bakura gave an emphatic nod. “I promise! Just let me up.”

Malik leaned down and stole a quick kiss from Bakura’s lips, and then he did let him up, going to get his phone.

Bakura went to get the towels as Malik answered the call. When he came back, Malik looked at him and said, “It’s not my sister. It’s Ryou.”

“Ryou?” Bakura looked surprised.

“Yeah.” Malik shrugged. “Yeah, we’re fine, Ryou.”

“Is there a reason he was calling over and over?” Bakura shot a questioning look at the phone, secretly annoyed that Ryou had interrupted them.

“You know, Ryou, we were kind of busy,” Malik said into the phone. “We were right in the middle of spring cleaning. Is there a reason you called again after we didn’t answer?”

Malik paused to listen, then turned to Bakura and said, “He says he was worried when we didn’t answer.”

Bakura rolled his eyes. “That’s stupid. Tell him we have things to do and can’t always be at his beck and call. If we don’t answer the phone it just means we’re busy, not that we’re dead or something.”

“Bakura says the responsibility of cleaning this apartment weighs heavily on him, and he can’t possibly stop his work to do something as trite as answer phone calls from friends.”

Bakura snickered, and Malik paused to listen again. “We were _not_ having sex!” Malik said into the phone with a laugh.

“We were _about_ to,” Bakura grumbled to himself.

But the mood was clearly gone now, and Bakura could see Malik eying the standing water on the floor of the kitchen as he listened to whatever Ryou was saying, so Bakura sighed and brought the towels to the kitchen, getting to work on mopping up the water.

When he was done, he came back to the living room to find that Malik was still on the phone. Malik had stripped off his wet shirt and was sitting on the couch as he talked. Bakura plopped down next to him, tired now from all the exertion of the day.

“He wants us to come over,” Malik said, turning to Bakura.

Bakura stretched lazily. “Tell him to come over here.”

“He says you should come here.” Malik paused, listening to Ryou’s response. He turned back to Bakura again. “He says he can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” Malik repeated into the phone. Suddenly he pulled the phone away from his ear. “Damn static, I can’t even hear what he’s saying. Why do we get such garbage reception in this place?”

Bakura shrugged. “Is he coming over or not?”

“No, I guess not,” Malik said. “Alright, yeah, once these reception issues start happening there’s no point in even trying to talk. I’ll call you later. Bye.”

“What a pest,” Bakura said once Malik had hung up.

“Well, we still have a lot of work to do. Remember what you promised.”

Bakura sighed in resignation.


	12. Chapter 12

Malik had just finished clearing up the table after dinner and now sat on the couch, chin in hand, looking bored and a little irritable.

“Hey, Sunshine,” Bakura said, and Malik looked up. “I stole more gems and wires so I could make some more of that wire wrapped jewelry. Just for something to do, you know. Do you want me to teach you how to make it?”

Malik shrugged. “I dunno. Is it hard? You know I’m not great at artistic stuff.”

“Nah, it’s actually really easy. It’s pretty much exactly what it sounds like—you just wrap the wires around the stones, and then twist them around to make designs if you want, and bend them to make clasps and that sort of thing. It’s actually even easier in the modern day than it was when I was first alive, since you can use pliers to help bend the wires and wire cutters to get the length you want.”

Malik gave another shrug, favoring Bakura with a small smile. “Sure, why not? Sounds like it could be fun.”

Bakura smiled back and ran to grab his bag from where he’d set it on the floor. Malik followed him into the kitchen, and Bakura proceeded to dump the bag out onto the table, spilling gemstones of different colors, various sizes of gold and silver wire, and a few small tools across its surface.

“Here, I’ll start by making something simple just to show you how it’s done.”

With that Bakura grabbed an amethyst whose color matched Malik’s eyes, then found a piece of golden wire and began twisting it around the stone as Malik watched. He stopped wrapping the stone when there were a couple centimeters of wire left sticking out, and then bent that wire into a hook. “See? Easy.” Bakura held up the newly created piece for Malik to examine. “It’s an earring. Want to try to make a matching one?”

“Alright.” Malik sifted through the stones on the table until he found another amethyst. He didn’t bother looking for the right length of wire, instead grabbing a random gold one and using a pair of wire cutters to snip it.

While Malik worked on that, Bakura picked out a blue stone from the pile, deciding he would try to make a scarab design next.

“I love how much easier it is to steal stuff from shops than it was to rob tombs,” Bakura mused as he worked.

Malik gave a distracted nod, but didn’t otherwise answer, seeming absorbed in getting the earring he was making just right.

“On the other hand, I liked robbing tombs because it was so exciting,” Bakura said. “Of course, when you’re alone in the desert, you kind of have to make your own entertainment. Anything to break up the monotony.”

“Yeah, I was always bored as hell in the tomb.” Malik used a pair of pliers to bend the end of the wire he was working with into a hook and then held up the now-finished earring for Bakura to assess. “What do you think?”

“Pretty decent for a first try.”

“Maybe I’ll make something for my sister next.”

“You should,” agreed Bakura. “It seems like it’s been a really long time since you’ve seen her. Maybe she’ll be less pissed about that if you bring her a gift when you go over.”

“What is it with you encouraging me to see Ishizu?” Malik laughed. “You can’t even stand her.”

Bakura shrugged, staring down at the table in concentration, busy using his bare fingers to twist the wire he was working with. “You do what you want. I just think it’s weird that you’ve gone so long without seeing her. Or Rishid.”

“Actually, I’m mad at her.”

Malik said it casually, but the bluntness of the statement made Bakura snap his head up and look at Malik. “Really? What happened?”

“Nothing lately.” Malik sighed. “I just realized...I mean, lately, for some reason, I’ve been thinking about how… _complicit_  she was in everything.”

Bakura set down the piece he was working on and nodded for him to go on.

“And...maybe it’s not fair, because back when I was a kid, it’s not like she had a choice about anything...not like any of us did...but even after we got out...and yeah, I know she was basically brainwashed...but still, it’s like she thought the whole problem was the fact that I didn’t want to follow the rules and the traditions, as if everything would have been just great if I’d only been alright with being caged and controlled for my entire life, giving up my own life to serve some asshole pharaoh, and putting up with how…” Malik had said it all in a rush, as if he’d just been waiting to get it all out, but then he paused and winced before continuing. “How my father treated all of us.”

Bakura thought for a moment before responding. “I totally get it. I’d be angry with her about that too. Hell, I _am_  angry with her about that.” Bakura shrugged and a bitter smile appeared on his face for a moment. “Though, I don’t think I can really give you any advice. I’m not exactly an expert on family relations.”

“That’s fine. I guess it kind of makes me feel better just to say it out loud.”

“You know it’s okay to feel mad at her, right?” Bakura said, giving Malik an understanding look.

“Yeah. You’re the one who taught me that.” Malik let out a humorless laugh. “I used to get so pissed at you when you’d talk about how terrible my father was, and how I should hate him.”

“I remember.” Bakura’s lips quirked up. “I think you almost hit me a couple times.”

“I felt like it, just a little,” Malik admitted. “But I was only pissed at you because you were right.”

Bakura was silent, but gave a little nod.

“I always knew it deep down, you know? Otherwise, I wouldn’t have even left the tomb...wouldn’t have defied everything he wanted of me as soon as he was dead.”

“Lucky for me you were strong enough to do that.” Bakura gave him an encouraging smile. Malik understandably got maudlin when he thought about his past, and Bakura always hoped he could say something to make him feel a bit better, if only a little.

Malik gave him a small smile in return, but then said, “You know, Sister thought the reason I wore Father’s earrings was because I loved and respected him...but...well, I never pointed it out to her, but did she ever notice that my other personality wore them too? And obviously that’s not why _he_  was wearing them. Really, it was more like a _fuck you_  to my father. Like...I’m the leader of the clan now, I’ll do what I want, not what _you_ wanted me to do.”

Bakura could see Malik’s face clouding further as he went on. He knew Malik still had complicated feelings about his father, guilt and affection wrapped up in the hatred and anger, even if he had accepted that the worthless bastard was largely to blame for his and his siblings’ miserable childhoods.

But still, Bakura thought it was getting better for Malik. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him wear those earrings.

“Those amethyst earrings will look better on you anyways,” Bakura said. “They’re the same color as your eyes, so they match.”

Malik gave him a tight smile. “Yeah.”

“Maybe you should talk to her about it?” Bakura asked, trying to steer the conversation away from Malik’s father. Malik needed to talk about it sometimes, but it was never good for him to dwell on it. “Ishizu, I mean.”

“What, like she’s going to ever admit she’s wrong? About anything?” Malik snorted.

“That _is_ one of the more annoying things about her.”

“I really don’t think it’s even worth it to argue with her about it,” Malik said. “I think it’s better if I just let it out to you, so I’m not tempted to say anything to her.”

Bakura shrugged. “Well...no one ever said your relationship with your family has to be totally perfect, right? It’s not like you necessarily have to talk every issue over with her so you can dissect every little thing together until you two agree on all of it.”

“You know, you’re right. I don’t have to try to fix every single thing between us,” Malik said. He nodded firmly to himself. “She’s my sister and we love each other. That’s enough.”

“So, are you going to make her something then?” Bakura inclined his head to indicate the jewels and wire in front of them.

“Sure. Might as well. I’m not very good at this yet, but I don’t think she’ll mind.”

“I’m sure she won’t.”

With that Malik started searching through the pile of stones again, and Bakura went back to working on his scarab piece. A few minutes later, Bakura got up to use the bathroom. As he was on his way back, he saw the lights in their apartment flicker, accompanied by an audible gasp from Malik, and he had the curious idea that he shouldn’t have left Malik alone with his thoughts. He began to rush back to the kitchen. The lights went out briefly again, but the flickering stopped just as he reached Malik, who was breathing heavily and glancing around with wide, fearful eyes.

“Alright?” Bakura asked, placing a hand on Malik’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I just…” Malik seemed to calm down in Bakura’s presence. “Did you see that? It seemed like all the lights in the whole apartment went off for a second.”

“Yeah, I saw. Kind of weird for them all to go off at the same time. Is there a storm outside?”

“I don’t hear a storm.” Malik got up and walked over to the living room window, and Bakura followed.

Malik parted the curtains so they could peer out. Bakura looked and saw that it was pitch black outside, and had a strange sense of deja vu about the last time this had happened, when he’d been looking out of the glass waiting for Malik to get home from work. He and Malik glanced away from the window to give each other a confused look. But when they turned back to the window, they saw that the street lights were now on, illuminating the area. Bakura could now see the parking lot, still and quiet, bathed in the fluorescent light. There was no storm.

“Maybe it was a power surge and it got the streetlights too for a minute,” Bakura suggested.

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” Malik agreed, but he gave a shiver as he let the curtains fall back into place.

They both turned to walk back to the kitchen, but just as they did, a loud crash sounded behind them. Malik jumped, instinctively reaching out to grab Bakura’s hand.

Bakura unthinkingly laced their fingers together as he whipped back around, throwing the curtains open.

But nothing had changed outside.

“Sometimes the thunder gets here before the rain,” Bakura said, closing the curtains again.

“I know,” Malik said, still clutching Bakura’s hand. “I just...gods, I hope the power doesn’t go out.”

“We have candles and flashlights,” Bakura assured him.

“Yeah,” Malik said. “You know...I think I’ll work on that bracelet for Ishizu later. I need to do something more distracting right now. Want to play a video game?”

“Sure,” Bakura said. “Just...come here for a second first.”

Bakura pulled Malik in by their linked hands, gathering him up in a tight hug. For just a moment the lights in the apartment seemed brighter than ever, and Bakura worried that it might make Malik even more concerned about a possible power outage, but Malik rested his chin on Bakura’s head and seemed to relax in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you haven’t heard, Steffy and Sitabethel and I are running a Thiefshipping event! We’re having authors sign up this month, and next month artists will be signing up, and then authors and artists will be paired together so everyone gets fanart of their fic. The minimum word count is only 5k for authors, so consider signing up! This Tumblr post has more information:
> 
>  
> 
> [Alchemy of Thiefshipping](http://chaosrocket.tumblr.com/post/175799983629/the-alchemy-of-thiefshipping-event-faq)


	13. Chapter 13

Malik ran with him through the dark, stumbling as he attempted to pull Bakura along.

Bakura tried with all his might to keep up, but something was wrong. Every time he put his left foot down, he was consumed by an immense pain, and his leg buckled underneath him.

He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten injured.

Malik had an arm around him, trying to hold him up and help him along, but it was no use. They were too slow, and the thunderous sound behind them was getting closer.

Bakura didn’t know what was making that sound, but he knew they had to get away from it.

Another flash of pain, and Bakura fell to his knees. Malik knelt beside him, trying to help him up, speaking to him urgently. The sound behind them finally coalesced into something meaningful, and Bakura realized he was hearing galloping footsteps. And he knew anything with footsteps so heavy must be huge.

Finally, Bakura managed to stand.

But they only made it a few steps before Bakura felt something cold latch onto his arm and coil around it. The touch of it made his skin crawl, and terror shot through him as he felt the unknown thing pulling him backwards, away from Malik. He tried to hold onto Malik, but the strength of whatever was grasping him was too great, and despite his efforts he was jerked out of Malik’s grip.

The force of it caused his feet to slide out from under him, and he cried out as he was dragged away. Then Malik was yelling, running after him. Bakura thrashed and struggled, but the grip only became tighter as whatever held him bore him farther away into the darkness.

But Malik was keeping up, panting as he pumped his arms and legs to dash after Bakura.

Suddenly, Bakura felt himself being flung through the air. He slammed into something hard, and it knocked the wind out of him for a second. For several moments he struggled to get up, breathing heavily and fighting against the pain in his body, until he came to the realization he wasn’t on the ground. He was somehow suspended in the air, and it wasn’t his broken leg that was keeping him from moving. Every muscle in his body was paralyzed. He couldn’t even scream.

He still couldn’t see what had grabbed him, but he did see Malik, shining with a golden halo of light as he finally reached him. Malik stretched up, extending his arms towards him.

But a moment before Malik’s hands touched him, something shot out of the blackness surrounding them and knocked him away from Bakura.

It happened too quickly for Bakura to process. The thing that had swatted Malik away was a blur in front of his eyes, and somehow darker than the pitch darkness all around them.

He saw where Malik had landed, face down on the ground in front of him. For several seconds he could see nothing besides Malik and the darkness, but finally something else came into focus and he could see why Malik didn’t seem to be able to get up—there was a gigantic demon atop him, holding him down. The demon was all blackness and teeth and claws, and somehow Bakura couldn’t comprehend its form beyond those features.

But then the demon locked eyes with Bakura, and he was able to see the pools of yellow staring at him as the demon sunk its long claws into Malik’s shoulders.

Malik shrieked as the claws raked down his back, opening wide gashes of red as his scars were torn apart, his flesh peeling away under the razor sharp talons.

Bakura struggled, tried to scream, tried to get to Malik, but the invisible bonds held him, making it impossible for him to move so much as a centimeter.

Malik cried out again as the claws of the demon slashed at him once more, tearing away so much flesh Bakura could see a flash of white bone.

Bakura’s mind locked up, as if the paralysis had spread from his body to his brain. He didn’t want to see this, but he wouldn’t have allowed himself to look away even if he could have. Every nerve in his body screamed with panic and horror, but he still couldn’t move a muscle.

Malik was wailing in agony, the demon continuing to rip away chunks of his back, tearing at the skin and muscles until nothing was left but a pulverized mass of red. A pool of bright blood was slowly spreading around Malik.

The demon was still staring at Bakura, drinking in his reaction, but now Bakura’s eyes were locked with Malik’s. Malik’s eyes were full of pain, but somehow steady, determined. The golden halo of light hadn’t left him.

The demon reared back to slash again at Malik’s ruined flesh.

Bakura awoke with a start. He groaned. Another nightmare. It had never exactly been uncommon for him to have dark dreams of moaning spirits and torture-happy demons, but it really did seem like they were getting more frequent lately. And this one had been even more disturbing than usual...he shuddered as he remembered the image of the flesh of Malik’s back being torn from his bones by the demon.

Malik...he sat up suddenly and looked around.

He was alone in their bed. Malik was nowhere to be seen.

“Malik?” Bakura called out, trying to sound casual. Maybe he was just in the bathroom.

But he wasn’t. Bakura checked every room in their small apartment, and Malik was nowhere to be found.

Bakura’s heart raced in his chest as panic closed in on him. For a few moments, he felt as paralyzed as he had been in his dream. His mind filled with images of Malik’s bloody and broken body, and he felt unable to focus on anything else.

But he knew he had to calm down, knew that letting himself spiral into a total meltdown would only make things worse and wouldn’t help him figure out where Malik was.

He tried to force himself to take deep breaths as he told himself to think about this rationally. It wasn’t exactly normal for Malik to be out at night, but it was nothing to lose his head over. It wasn’t as if it were impossible for Malik to have gone out because he needed something from the store, or even just because he wanted to take a night ride on his bike. He was always complaining about wanting to get out and get some fresh air.

Bakura was in the living room by now, and he slowly turned towards the door. He actually felt relief when he saw Malik’s leather jacket wasn’t hanging on the coatrack in the entryway. He walked closer to check the little bowl under the rack where Malik kept his keys and other small items, and saw that his keys were missing as well.

So, Malik had just gone out. It was really no big deal. He was only freaking out because he was so shaken from that awful nightmare, but Malik going down the street to the store at night wasn’t the end of the world.

Still, though, he knew he’d never get back to sleep, not without Malik here, even though he felt indescribably drained and tired. But Malik would surely be back soon. He just needed something to distract himself with until Malik got home. So he decided to select a book and read it in bed while he waited for Malik to return.

He pulled a copy of Watership Down from the bookshelf, hoping the tale would somehow help calm his fried nerves. He didn’t normally read fantasy books about animals, but Malik had convinced him to give it a try by showing him the animated film of the book. Bakura had been charmed by the fact that the cartoon was full of things like dark visions and death and blood, as if it were a horror movie for children.

The book couldn’t be considered horror though, and was much tamer than anything he’d normally read. So he got into bed with his book, hoping to lose himself in it until Malik came home.

 

* * *

 

 

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he woke up with Malik’s body draped over his. He thought of his nightmare and its aftermath instantly, and felt a wave of relief that Malik was here, whole and safe in his arms. He snuggled against him, and his slight movements caused Malik to begin to stir.

“Morning, Sunshine,” Bakura said gently.

“Hm?” asked Malik, sounding confused.

Bakura’s face flushed as he realized his mistake. Usually he only used the nickname sarcastically. “I said, get up and get me breakfast.”

“Mmph.” Malik was still half asleep, and if he’d noticed Bakura’s slip, he seemed too out of it to really remember.

Bakura proceeded to poke him to wake him up fully. “Breakfast,” he repeated.

He didn’t really consider telling Malik about his nightmare. Sometimes he did talk about his bad dreams to Malik, but something about this one—namely, the way Malik was shrieking in agony as the flesh of his back was ripped from his body—made Bakura shy away from mentioning it to him. So there was no reason to mention Malik’s little midnight excursion either. Malik would want to know why Bakura had been awake to notice it.

“Alright, alright,” Malik mumbled. “But you’re getting cereal.”

Bakura smiled.


	14. Chapter 14

Bakura gave an exaggerated stretch. “My muscles are kind of sore.”

Malik scoffed. “How could you possibly be sore? You do fuck all besides sit on your ass all the time.”

Bakura ignored that comment. “You should give me a massage,” he said.

Malik raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I should, should I?”

“Yeah. And not just a back rub—a full body massage.”

“I ought to say no,” Malik said, but his hand was already sneaking under Bakura’s shirt to rub at his lower back.

Bakura had known he would do it. Malik never denied Bakura when he asked for physical touch.

Bakura had spent so long being completely touch starved, first alone in the desert and then alone in the Ring. He thought Malik was the first person he’d truly touched since he was a young child in his mother’s arms.

So he _needed_ Malik’s touch, needed Malik’s hands on every part of him making his entire body feel amazing, needed the closeness and affection and the knowledge that Malik wanted to give it.

Malik understood what he was really asking for when he asked for a massage, so he never told him no.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t rib him a little.

“Considering how rudely you asked—well, _commanded_ —me to do it, I should at least demand something in return before I agree.” Bakura chuckled a bit as Malik’s hands continued to travel up his back. “But I won’t,” Malik continued. “You know why?”

“Why’s that?”

Malik went to pull Bakura’s shirt over his head, and Bakura helped him get it off. “Well, first of all…I can’t get enough of touching you,” Malik said, his tone turning sultry. “And I enjoy making you feel good.”

“Mmm.” Bakura leaned further in to Malik’s touch.

“And secondly,” Malik said with a smirk, “I know by the time I’m done, you’ll do anything I want anyways.”

Bakura scoffed, even as he squirmed with pleasure at the feeling of Malik’s hands on his skin. “We’ll see about that. Maybe if you make it _really_  good.”

Malik laughed. “Oh, come on.” He drew Bakura closer, lowering his voice to an intimate whisper and nuzzling against Bakura’s ear. “You know you always want to make love afterwards.”

Bakura was sure Malik could feel the powerful shivers that coursed through his body at his words.

Bakura never called sex _that_ —at least not out loud—but Malik did on rare occasions, and it always overwhelmed Bakura a bit, sending a little thrill of desire and euphoria through him and making him feel warm and soft inside, and he could never quite stop himself from trembling with it.

“Take off the rest of your clothes and go lie down on the bed,” Malik said, and Bakura immediately jumped up to do so.

Bakura stripped off his jeans and boxers on the way to the bedroom, making a quick stop by the bathroom on the way to toss his discarded clothes into the dirty laundry basket, because he knew Malik would complain later on if he left them on the floor instead. That done, he went to lay face down on the bed, his arms stretched above him.

Malik removed his own clothes before joining him, then climbed up on the bed to straddle him.

Malik started with his fingers, giving each one a pull as he massaged his palm. Bakura emitted soft sounds of pleasure as Malik moved down his arm, his hands encircling it and squeezing firmly until he reached his shoulder, and then Malik did the same thing to Bakura’s other hand and arm.

Bakura sighed happily as Malik began to scratch and massage his scalp, combing his fingers through his storm of messy white hair.

Malik’s hands moved to rub at the base of his neck, and then his shoulders. He smoothed his hands along the skin of his back, traveling up and down a few times before going back to his shoulders, digging his fingers into the muscles there.

Bakura couldn’t stop sighing as Malik alternated between scratching and rubbing his back until every bit of tension was worked out of his muscles. As Malik’s hands worked, he occasionally leaned down to brush his lips over Bakura’s skin, trailing soft kisses along his spine that made Bakura shiver.

Bakura felt weightless as Malik’s hands continued to move down his body, massaging and stroking every centimeter of skin all the way down to his toes.

Bakura knew he must have looked dizzy with pleasure by the time Malik had touched every part of his body that he could reach and had him flip over. Malik gave the same treatment to his front, touching and rubbing and kneading his muscles and dotting little kisses over his skin.

Bakura’s eyes were closed as he lost himself in Malik’s touch, concentrating on the feeling of his hands on his body and the enjoyment of being touched absolutely everywhere, and feeling content with the knowledge that Malik _wanted_ to give this to him and enjoyed it as much as he did.

Bakura had instinctively spread his legs, and his breathing quickened when Malik’s hands brushed along his inner thighs, though he knew Malik wouldn’t touch anything between his legs until he was done with the massage.

Once Malik’s hands had been over every bit of his skin, he moved to lay on top of Bakura, pressing their naked bodies together. Malik nuzzled against his neck, and they enjoyed the closeness for a moment before Malik sat up again.

Malik reached down to tease Bakura’s nipples for a bit before finally moving down to stroke his erection and cup his balls. Bakura let out a little sound of pleasure, arching up into Malik’s touch.

Bakura was beyond ready, and Malik knew it, so he only played with him for a bit before he reached over to pull open the drawer on their nightstand and retrieve the lube.

Bakura never really needed preparation, though Malik gave it to him sometimes in order to tease him. But Malik wasn’t going to make him wait this time, so he coated his own cock and positioned himself between Bakura’s legs.

As Malik finally entered him, Bakura let out a low, satisfied moan at the feeling of fullness and of Malik being exactly where he belonged. Malik gave a sweet sigh in response, leaning down to kiss Bakura’s lips as he began to move.

They rocked together slowly, exchanging soft kisses and stroking each other’s skin, only speeding up towards the end when they both began to near completion and couldn’t hold back anymore. Their kisses became rougher as their thrusts quickened, Malik’s hand moving over Bakura’s erection in time with the shared rhythm of the gyration of their hips.

Bakura called out Malik’s name as he came, and Malik followed soon after, pressing into Bakura as deeply as possible as he released inside of him. When he was spent, Malik went limp with satisfaction, and lay on top of Bakura like that for several moments. They shared a few more kisses before Malik pulled out and rolled off of Bakura to lay next to him.

Bakura gazed at Malik with sleepy eyes, and Malik smiled and reached out to twirl a lock of Bakura’s hair around his finger. They both radiated satiation as they stared at each other and let their fingers wander over each other’s skin and shared the occasional kiss.

Finally, Bakura flipped onto his other side, and Malik spooned up behind him. Malik slipped an arm around his middle, and Bakura reached down to lace their fingers together.

Bakura blinked as he gazed at the wall across from them. When they were tangled together in the afterglow of their lovemaking, somehow everything seemed to be more bright, more real. It wasn’t even a metaphor—everything really did seem to him to somehow to be more _there_ in those moments. Not Malik himself, for some reason, but everything else in their apartment, even the walls themselves.

It didn’t only happen when they had sex. Bakura also noticed it often when they were just close and cuddling, sometimes when they were laughing together or talking, and even occasionally when they were bickering. But always when they had sex.

Bakura was sure the effect was just in his mind, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. Something about it made him feel more safe; protected—though he didn’t know from what.

But he was sleepy and comfortable, so he closed his eyes against the brightness and let himself drift off as he snuggled deeper into Malik’s embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was sort of a sappy interlude before things get more intense. After this things will generally be ramping up every chapter.
> 
> Oh, also, I should have mentioned this in an AN for the last chapter but I forgot: the title of this fic is actually the name of a song from Watership Down, the movie based on the book Bakura was reading in the last chapter.


	15. Chapter 15

Malik burst into the apartment, slamming the door behind him, a sour look on his face as usual.

Bakura glanced up at him from his place on the couch, unable to help noticing the way the sunlight streaming in through the window caught his golden hair. “Hey, Sunshine,” he said. “Tough day at work?”

“What do you think?” Malik sneered.

“You know, it’s your own damn fault you’re always in a bad mood like this. I don’t know why you insist on having a job at all. Don’t you have plenty of money from your clan?”

Instead of answering, Malik gave him a withering look and said, “I’m starved, and I really don’t feel like cooking tonight. Can we please go out, for once?”

“You know how much I hate going out,” Bakura argued. “It’s too much of a hassle, and for what? It’s noisy, and crowded, and it’s always too hot or too cold, and worst of all, there are _people_  out there. I fucking hate people. And don’t tell me you don’t, too.”

Malik rolled his eyes. “How would you know what it’s like going out? When was the last time you even left the apartment?”

Bakura shrugged. “Fuck if I know.”

Malik turned to throw his jacket onto the coat rack, and when he turned back, he gave Bakura a significant look. “No, seriously, Bakura...do you remember the last time you left this place?”

“Of course, I—” Bakura broke off as he suddenly realized he really couldn’t remember. But that was silly. Of course he must have left at some point.

A loud sigh from Malik distracted him from his thoughts. “Fine, if you’re going to be a stubborn ass like always, I guess I’ll order takeout,” Malik said.

Malik pulled out his phone and began scrolling. Bakura closed his eyes briefly, suddenly feeling very tired.

But only moments later, the loud sound of static made him pop his eyes open again. As soon as he did, his vision was assaulted with the sight of gray and black snow blaring from the television set. He fumbled around for the remote, finally finding it on the end table, and clicked the power button to turn off the TV.

Once the TV was off, he was suddenly enveloped by total darkness. He didn’t know why that panicked him for a moment. All he could think of was trying to get some kind of light on. He stumbled over to the wall, groping for the switch. He finally found it, and the room was flooded with light again.

As his racing heart slowed, it began to hit him that none of this made sense.

It was night out now, even though it had been daytime only moments ago.

And there was no reason for the lights to have been off. The lights were never off.

And moreover...Malik wasn’t in the room with him any longer.

He barked out a nervous laugh as the realization washed over him. He had been dreaming, of course. He remembered now...it was the middle of the night, and he’d fallen asleep watching TV.

He wandered into the bedroom, assuming he’d find Malik there asleep.

But the bed was empty.

He was shaken for a moment, but then he scolded himself, telling himself there was no reason to be upset. Malik must have gone on another of his midnight rides, like he had the last time Bakura had woken up in the middle of the night.

_Great_ , he thought. _Perfect timing_.

Of course Malik always had to happen to be out every time he had a nightmare lately.

But had it even been a nightmare? He no longer remembered exactly what had happened in the dream. He’d just been arguing with Malik about...something...and then the TV static had woken him.

Well, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t a child. He didn’t need Malik with him every second. He was perfectly capable of sleeping on his own occasionally.

With that thought, he climbed into bed and firmly shut his eyes. He’d go back to sleep, and Malik would be home by the time he woke up again.

 

* * *

 

Bakura woke to the sun. He felt breath on his neck, and the weight of an arm draped around his middle. He turned to face Malik.

“Morning,” Malik yawned.

“Morning,” Bakura answered. He thought about asking Malik where he’d gone last night, but something stopped him. He didn’t want Malik to think he wasn’t allowed to go out occasionally because Bakura was so weak and needy he couldn’t even function on his own for a few hours at night. Malik already complained enough that Bakura wouldn’t go out with him...was he going to tell him he couldn’t even get out the house by himself, either? He knew Malik felt cooped up sometimes. He supposed anyone would, being locked underground for his entire childhood. He knew he really should consider taking Malik out sometime.

But not today. He hadn’t slept well, and all he wanted was to stay home and relax for the day.

Malik gave him a sleepy smile. “So, what do you want to do today?”

Bakura assumed Malik must not be going to work today; otherwise, he wouldn’t be asking that. He was glad of it. The idea of spending the day alone in the apartment without Malik made him feel more nervous than he wanted to admit. He supposed he was still just feeling strange due to the weird night he’d had.

“Movie marathon?” Bakura suggested, hoping Malik would be amenable, and wouldn’t suggest going out.

“Hm, sure,” Malik said. “Do you want breakfast first?”

“Actually...how about I make breakfast today?”

Malik looked at him like he’d gone crazy. “Did you hit your head in your sleep, or something?”

“Hey, I know how to cook, you know! I had to do it for myself every day when I was last alive. I’ll bet it’s way easier now, what with packaged food and stoves and everything.”

“Ha! I have got to see this,” Malik laughed.

Bakura swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Well, prepare to be impressed.”

Malik gave him a sardonic smile and followed him into the kitchen.

Bakura went to the refrigerator. Deciding to start with the simplest thing first, he pulled out their carton of orange juice, then fetched two glasses and filled them.

After setting the glasses on the table, he stood in the kitchen tapping his foot, thinking. Usually, they had separate breakfasts since Bakura liked meat and Malik didn’t, but there was absolutely no way he was cooking two different things. So he had to come up with something to make that they could both tolerate.

As Bakura hesitated, Malik gave him an amused look from the entryway where he stood watching him. “Need any help?” he teased.

“No!” Bakura snapped.

He turned around purposefully and began hunting for fruit. Once he had a banana, an apple, some strawberries, and some leftover melon slices Malik hadn’t finished and had put in a container in the refrigerator, he got to work. He may not have been a great cook, but he certainly had skills with a knife. He cut up the fruit and then divided the pieces into two bowls, giving Malik all of the cantaloupe since Bakura couldn’t stand the taste of melon.

Once he put the bowls on the table, Malik said, “This is great and all, but didn’t you say you were going to _cook_?”

“I am! Give me a minute, damn.”

Bakura had spent more time thinking of what to make as he’d cut up the fruit, and he thought he’d finally come up with a good idea. He found a couple potatoes and set them on the counter. “Where do we keep, you know, that thing you use to shred stuff?”

Malik raised his eyebrows. “The grater?” He pointed to a cabinet.

Bakura found it, as well as a bowl, and began grating the potatoes.

“Hashbrowns?” Malik guessed.

“Hopefully that meets with your approval.”

“Sure, that’s fine, but...you should go ahead and start heating up the pan before you finish shredding those. Otherwise you’ll be standing around waiting.”

“Fine, you know-it-all,” Bakura said. He got out a pan and set it on the stove before going back to his task.

“Um...the stove kind of needs to be on for the pan to heat up, Bakura.” Malik smirked at him.

“I know that!” Bakura yelled. He went over and snapped the knob to the right, turning the stove on.

He went back to shredding the potatoes. “When you’re cooking with fire, it’s not like you have to mess with buttons or wait for it to heat up or anything,” Bakura muttered, and Malik chuckled.

Once the potatoes were finally shredded, Bakura went to dump them into the pan. He could see Malik trying not to laugh too much as he reminded him that he actually needed to put butter in the pan first. Bakura gave him a scowl as he got out the butter and threw some into the pan.

Still, Bakura felt he was victorious in the end, because he watched the potatoes very closely to make sure they didn’t burn, and Malik didn’t dare make fun of him for his extreme concentration, because it served its intended purpose. Bakura even decided to make the potatoes a little fancier by putting some slices of cheddar cheese on top. The cheese melted quickly, and he took the hash browns out of the pan and divided them onto two plates, sprinkling some bacon bits from a canister onto his own.

Finally, they sat down to their meal. Malik took a bite of the cheesy potatoes and smiled. “This is actually good.”

“I told you so!” Bakura said proudly.

“Alright, fine, you were right,” Malik said with a grin, wisely choosing not to mention Bakura’s near-mistakes that he’d had to correct. Bakura beamed at him.

“Thanks for making breakfast. Now, if only I could get you to do the dishes afterwards…”

Bakura winked at him. “We’ll see.”


	16. Chapter 16

The shadows swirled around him, and he thrashed wildly, as if he could somehow shake them off, somehow rid himself of the darkness in this place that was nothing but shadows and darkness. But he realized the shadows weren’t just around him; they were inside him, consuming him, a trap he couldn’t escape. He could feel the demon’s claws in him. He could hear his people screaming, screaming like always. Their cries got louder, and as they reached a fever pitch, Bakura lent his voice to theirs, screaming in vain into the blackness. Then fire consumed everything.

Bakura awoke with a start, a yelp escaping his mouth before he could stop it. Before the terror from his nightmare had even begun to fade, he was gripped with a new fear: that he was alone, that Malik would be gone again.

But he looked beside him, and relief flooded him as he saw the lump of covers next to him stirring. Malik must have been awoken by Bakura’s distressed noises and movements. Bakura’s heart finally began to slow as he heard Malik say, “Nightmare?”

“Uh-huh,” Bakura breathed, allowing himself to lie back down next to Malik.

“The standard kind, I suppose?” Malik asked.

“Yeah,” Bakura confirmed. His people, his past, the Shadows, the demons. That was standard, and Malik had slept next to him and been awoken by his night terrors enough times to know it.

Malik gathered him into his arms. “It’s alright. It was just a dream. There’s nothing to be upset about.”

“That’s not helpful,” Bakura snapped.

“Come on. I know you’re upset, but that’s no reason to take it out on me.” Malik reached out to stroke Bakura’s hair. “I’m trying to help you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakura said begrudgingly. He reminded himself he was probably only feeling irritable due to being so shaken from his nightmare...but Malik’s words had just seemed so dismissive. Still, though, there was no point in throwing Malik’s attempt at comfort back in his face; Bakura wasn’t in the mood for an argument right now. He was just grateful Malik was actually here this time. “Yeah, I know.”

“It’s fine. I understand.” Malik squeezed him tighter for a second. “And I get what you mean. I know it wasn’t _just_  a dream. I know you’re upset that you failed your people because the pharaoh bested you. But you have to move on, you know? Have to be strong and get over it, instead of doing _this_ all the time. Aren’t you tired of being weak? I’m getting a bit tired of dealing with it myself, to be honest, especially when you snap at me like that when I’m only trying to help.”

Bakura froze, the blood in his veins turning to ice. He carefully extricated himself from the embrace and backed away slowly, cautiously.

“Oh come on, don’t be mad. I know that may not have been pleasant to hear, but I’m only trying to be honest with you because I care.”

But Bakura wasn’t angry. There was a look of abject terror in his eyes. “You’re not Malik.” His voice came out flat.

“Seriously? Is it really easier for you to believe that I’m not me than to accept that I might say something you don’t like?” But the expression on Bakura’s face didn’t change. “I’m sorry, alright? I know I don’t say it very often, but I really do care about you. I swear I was only trying to help. I just want you to move on, for both our sakes.”

“Where is he?” The muscles in Bakura’s body coiled as he got ready to strike.

“No? Really?” The one next to Bakura in bed cocked his head, looking at Bakura curiously. Then he sighed in resignation before annoyance took over his features and he gave a frustrated punch to the mattress. “Damn it. When did you know? It’s not as if he’s all sweet and kind to you all the time...at what point did I go too far?”

“For sure? At _failed your people_...but...even before that.” Bakura shook his head. He didn’t know why he was answering. He clenched his fist. “Where the _hell_ is he? What have you done with him?”

A wide grin split the face of the thing in bed next to him. “You’re right, I have him. And I’m hurting him right now.”

Bakura pounced then, instantly on top of the other. He aimed a hard punch at its head, causing it to reel back for a second. But it recovered quickly.

“Oh, don’t get yourself all bent out of shape. You’ve won for now. I’ll be forced to return him to you soon.” The thing gave a bitter, twisted smile. Then its voice rose as it shrieked, “But your love can’t protect you two from me forever! I’ll find a way to break it!”

“Where the fuck is he!” Bakura pulled back for another punch, but his fist met only air before slamming down into the pillow, right where the thing’s head had been a second ago. He looked around, frantic, but there was nothing other than darkness.

And that wasn’t right. There was always a light on in the bedroom. Malik couldn’t sleep in the dark.

Bakura blinked, and suddenly he saw it. The dimmed lamp on the bedside table was on, illuminating the room well enough for him to see that he was completely alone.

Bakura’s head swam with confusion, the disorientation so bad he had to lie back down. The events of a minute ago were already beginning to take on a faded, dreamlike quality.

It had seemed so real at the time...at least, he thought he remembered it seeming real. Was it possible it could have all been part of his nightmare from earlier? Did he only just now wake up?

But then, where was Malik?

He leaped out of bed, frantic as he ran out to the living room, through the kitchen, checking the bathroom on the way.

There was no sign of Malik. And his jacket and keys were gone again.

Bakura told himself that maybe Malik had just gone out, the way he had on previous nights.

Of course, that was the explanation.

It had to have just been a dream. The way the thing next to him wearing Malik’s face had suddenly disappeared, the way the light had come on as soon as he’d thought about it...he had just had a nightmare, and Malik was just out taking a ride on his motorcycle, happy and carefree, and he’d be home by morning, just as he was the other times Bakura had woken up to an empty apartment.

What other explanation was there? He’d joked to Malik before about his alternate personality being back, but that didn’t make any sense. Malik’s other personality wasn’t capable of disappearing into thin air in front of his eyes.

So what else could it be? Of course, he knew there were entities in existence that _could_ disappear like that. He tried to think. The thing had said...what had it said? Something about hurting Malik? He gave an involuntary shudder at the thought. Yet, it was becoming hard to remember exactly what had happened.

So of course it had just been a dream, and he was already forgetting the details, the way one did with dreams.

He just wished he could know for sure. He thought about going out to search for Malik, but quickly realized it would be pointless. Malik could be anywhere in the city, and Bakura didn’t even have transportation. He would never find him. And if it really wasn’t just a dream, if the thing from his nightmare was real and Malik really was in trouble...then that would have to mean there was something supernatural going on, and running around outside aimlessly wouldn’t help with that at all.

He gripped his head, feeling a pounding ache behind his eyes. He dropped down onto the recliner in their living room, heaving out a frustrated sigh.

He reminded himself again that Malik had disappeared at night before, and he’d always come back by the next day. Just because he’d had a nightmare and Malik had decided to go to the store in the middle of the night was no reason for him to jump to the conclusion that something horrible had happened to Malik. Malik had gone out, and he’d had a bad dream. That was all.

He just had to wait out the night. If Malik was back by morning, then he would ask him where he’d been, and hopefully he’d say that he’d been unable to sleep and gone out for a ride on his bike and Bakura could have a laugh at himself...after chewing Malik out for running off at night without telling him where he was going. He hadn’t wanted to mention Malik’s nighttime excursions to him before, but he’d just have to grit his teeth and do it.

And if Malik wasn’t back by morning...he’d have to do some research, he supposed. He could call Ryou. He was always good at figuring out these kinds of mystical things. He wished he could call Ryou now, as embarrassing as it would be if this turned out to be nothing...but Malik’s phone was gone along with his jacket and keys. Bakura really needed to get his own phone, and resolved to bring it up to Malik when he saw him.

He tried to comfort himself by thinking about it logically. If the dream had been real and some sort of evil entity, or something, had snatched Malik from their bed, why would his phone and jacket and keys be gone? Malik was obviously just out.

He suddenly realized something he should have thought of before and ran to the window. He looked down into the parking lot below and saw that Malik’s bike wasn’t in its usual spot.

Malik was just out. That’s all it was.

He didn’t want to consider the alternative...not yet.

He knew he’d never get back to sleep now. But he needed something to distract himself. As he flipped on the TV and began searching for a mindless game to play, he thought about how he was really going to give Malik a piece of his mind when he got home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry updates have been a bit slow. I'm working on the fic for the Thiefshipping Alchemy event I'm helping to run, so updates for this fic might be a little more spaced out for a little while. But don't worry, a lot of the later chapters are already mostly done, so updates should become more regular then.


	17. Chapter 17

Bakura awoke to sunlight streaming in through the curtains of their bedroom. He sat up suddenly, the memories from the previous night rushing back. He didn’t remember falling asleep. He certainly didn’t remember getting back into bed.

And he was alone in the bed.

“Malik?” he called. He was too overwhelmed with fear to even think of trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

For a terrible moment, he heard only the echo of his own shout as he stared in dismay around their empty bedroom.

But seconds later Malik appeared in the doorway, concern etched on his face. “Bakura? What’s wrong?”

“Malik? Is it you?” His voice trembled.

Malik looked confused, but he was already rushing to the bed, getting in next to Bakura and pulling him close. “Of course it’s me.”

Bakura collapsed into Malik’s arms, the relief so sharp it made his muscles weak. He began to shake. It _was_ Malik. He knew it was, in a way he hadn’t known the previous night, even before he’d consciously realized that something was wrong.

Malik held him tighter. “Bakura, what’s wrong? Can you talk about it?”

Bakura shook his head against Malik’s chest, cringing against him as if trying to to get deeper into his embrace. He needed a minute. He tried to relax, concentrating on the feeling of Malik’s hands giving him comforting caresses, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, proof that Malik was alive and well and right here next to him.

He didn’t feel able to speak yet. But he needed to know, so he tried to force himself to talk. After struggling for several moments, he finally got ahold of himself well enough to say, “Malik, where were you last night? Did you go for a ride on your bike or something? Because I really wish you’d tell me if you’re going to do that.”

Malik looked down at him with concern. “I didn’t go anywhere last night, Bakura.”

“I thought…” Bakura tilted his face up to Malik and then shook his head, confused, a lost look in his eyes. He knew Malik wouldn’t lie to him.

The lines of concern on Malik’s face deepened. “It’s alright, Bakura. I’m here. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I...I guess I...dreamed it?” Bakura looked down, feeling foolish. Was it possible the whole thing has been a dream, even the part where he’d gotten up and looked for Malik and found him gone?

“You had a nightmare?” Malik’s eyes shone with sympathy as he continued to pet Bakura’s hair and rub his back. “What happened in it? Do you feel like you can tell me? You know you feel better sometimes when you talk about it.”

Bakura took a deep breath. As embarrassed as he was, he felt compelled to tell Malik...at least parts of it, at least some of the things he still remembered. “Well, I was having a nightmare...the standard kind, you know.” Malik nodded, understanding what he meant. “But then I woke up and...you were here, but it wasn’t you. It was just...a thing that looked like you. Then it was suddenly gone, and the light changed, and...that part started to seem like a dream too. But I got up and you weren’t in the apartment. And your bike and keys and phone and everything were gone. So I started to think you just went out, but I couldn’t sleep so I played some video games...but then I woke up here, in bed, and I don’t remember going back to bed, or falling asleep.”

Malik nodded again, his fingers tracing aimless designs over Bakura’s back. “So, you dreamed you woke up? I think that’s called a false awakening. I’ve had those a couple times before.”

“Malik…” Bakura swallowed, afraid to voice the question he was about to ask, afraid of what the answer would be. But he had to ask. “Have you ever left in the middle of the night? To grab something from the store, or go for a ride, or anything?”

Malik’s fingers twined in Bakura’s hair. “Of course not. I’d never leave in the middle of the night without telling you.”

Bakura buried his face into Malik’s shoulder, breathing in his scent to comfort himself. As soon as the words had come out of Malik’s mouth, Bakura had immediately known it was true—Malik would never do that, and Bakura realized now that deep down he’d known that all along. And anyways, Malik certainly wouldn’t lie to him about something like this.

So had all of the incidents just been dreams? Every time he’d woken up to find Malik gone, had it just been one of those false awakenings Malik mentioned?

Bakura noticed Malik was gently rocking him back and forth, and his face heated. He really was being stupid, getting this upset over some silly dreams. He should have been used to nightmares by now.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” Bakura said. “I was just shaken up but...yeah, it was just a dream. It’s no big deal.” Bakura gave Malik a confident smile and let go of him. He didn’t need to be coddled.

Malik smiled back, indulgent. “Hey, I was just about to start making breakfast. That’s where I was when you called me. How about I go finish it and bring it in here and we can relax and eat it in bed?”

Bakura gave a little nod. He shouldn’t need to be coddled, but he wasn’t going to turn down food.

Malik gave him a quick kiss and then got up, and for a second panic flooded Bakura at the thought of letting Malik out of his sight. But he pushed it down, telling himself he was being ridiculous.

He lay back down, listening to the sounds of Malik bustling about in the kitchen, proof that Malik was only feet away. It wasn’t long before Malik came back and presented him with steak and eggs on a tray. Malik had French toast with strawberries for himself, and Bakura sat closer to him than was strictly necessary as they ate.


	18. Chapter 18

Bakura awoke to pitch blackness.

Again.

Suddenly he saw twin pools of yellow shining out of the darkness.

They blinked.

“It is so nice to see you again,” he heard a voice rasp.

“It’s just a dream,” Bakura said aloud.

“Yes, just a dream,” the voice answered. “We love it when you sleep.”

A shining white claw suddenly shot out of the blackness, catching him on his calf.

He yelped at the sharp pain, reflexively pulling his leg back towards himself and then covering the wound with his hand.

“There,” he heard the voice rasp. “Now you match your lover.”

“It’s no big deal,” Bakura said to himself, trying to ignore the burning pain of the cut on his leg. “I’ll wake up soon.”

“Sad, yet true...we will be made to send the both of you back soon,” hissed the thing from the blackness he still couldn’t see. “A pity. We do so love spending time with you two.”

Then Bakura heard another sound—cries of fear and pain coming from somewhere in the darkness.

As they got louder, he recognized them.

 _Malik_.

“Yes,” something hissed in his ear, and he jumped at the sudden proximity of the voice. “Go to him. It is unfortunate, but I cannot stop you. But soon…”

Bakura thought he heard his name being called from somewhere in the distance. Malik was screaming for him.

Something heavy suddenly slammed into the side of Bakura’s head and he cried out as he crashed to the ground from the force of the blow.

But he had to get up. He had to find Malik.

His ears were ringing, a splitting pain piercing through his head. As he struggled to his feet, he heard the voice near him hiss, “I will see you again soon.”

A moment later, he was running through the dark, unable to see anything, but using the sounds of Malik’s terror to guide him in the right direction.

He sat up in bed with a gasp. He could still hear Malik’s cries echoing in his ears.

He looked beside him, and was hit with the realization that he really _could_  still hear Malik calling out. Malik was next to him in bed, thrashing, moaning Bakura’s name, his face twisted in pain.

“Malik!” Bakura reached out and grabbed Malik’s shoulder, shaking him. “Malik, wake up!”

Malik jolted awake. For a second his eyes were wide with terror, but he visibly calmed as he registered Bakura’s face in front of his.

“Malik, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Malik breathed. He shifted closer to Bakura, and Bakura quickly took him into his arms. “I was just having a nightmare.”

“Me too, actually.” Bakura gave him a lopsided smile. “Guess I woke up first.”

“Was yours bad?” Concern showed in Malik's eyes.

“The usual,” Bakura said dismissively. He still felt embarrassed about the way Malik had coddled him after his last nightmare, so he didn't want to make a big deal over this one. Especially when Malik had just had his own nightmare.

Malik nodded, and then both were quiet for a few moments as they held each other.

“Damn,” Malik said, breaking the silence. His face scrunched up in pain. “My leg feels like—“

He broke off as he threw the covers down, exposing his lower body.

Bakura gasped in shock as he saw the long, thin cut that sliced down Malik’s calf.

Bakura then realized his own leg still stung, and, though he feared what he might see, his eyes slowly travelled down his own body.

The same cut was drawn down Bakura’s lower leg.

“How the hell did I get a cut on my leg?” Malik mumbled.

“Um, Malik?” Bakura said. “Look at my leg.”

Malik reeled back a bit in shock when he saw what Bakura was indicating. “What the hell?”

“I...I dreamed something clawed me in the leg,” Bakura said slowly. “Do you remember what you dreamed?”

Malik looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head. “It seems like I never remember my nightmares anymore.”

“I—“ Bakura started, but then he broke off. He'd been about to ask Malik something, but now he couldn’t think of what it was. What else had happened in his nightmare, aside from him getting slashed on the leg? He could no longer remember anything else about it...aside from two shining yellow eyes floating in the darkness.

“Well...maybe you accidentally did this to both of us in your sleep,” Malik said.

“Wait, what? Why do I get the blame?” Bakura cried. “Maybe _you_ did it to both of us in your sleep!”

“You’re the one who dreamed you got cut on the leg. And we know you’ve acted out your dreams before. Remember how badly you clawed yourself up last time?”

Bakura made a _hmph_ sound and turned away.

“Not like I’m mad at you about it or anything. I know you can’t control yourself when you’re thrashing around during a nightmare,” Malik said. “Besides, these don’t even look that bad. Nothing like what you did to yourself last time.”

Bakura sighed. “Well, I don’t think I can sleep anymore. Want to clean these cuts off and then go play some video games?”

 

* * *

 

They did play video games, until the day grew a bit later and Malik’s phone rang. It was Rishid, and Malik headed off to the kitchen to talk to him.

Bakura waited patiently on the couch, thinking how glad he was that Malik wasn’t going to work today. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he really did dislike being left alone after one of his nightmares.

He was just about to give up on Malik rejoining their game anytime soon, thinking of switching off the game system and flipping over to a TV show, when his calm was suddenly broken by a strange noise that sounded like a low, menacing growling. He couldn’t tell quite where the sound was coming from.

“Malik?”

“I’m still on the phone, Bakura!” Malik’s voice floated back to him.

“Did you hear that noise?” Bakura yelled.

“Bakura, I’ll come finish our game in a minute, okay? Quit bothering me!”

Bakura let out a growling noise himself, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance.

“No, I’m not busy,” Bakura heard Malik say. “Bakura is just being annoying like always.”

Bakura grit his teeth.

When Malik came back a few minutes later, Bakura snapped at him, “I really did hear something! I wasn’t just trying to bother you!”

“Oh? What was it?”

Bakura ignored the question and said, “I don’t know why you’d even think I was just trying to bother you. When do I ever bother you when you want to be left alone, or when you’re talking to Rishid, or even Ryou?”

Malik snorted. “I notice you didn’t put Ishizu in that list.”

“That’s because she’s always saying bad things about me.”

“Actually, she hasn’t been lately. She’s actually been encouraging me to spend more time around you, if you can believe it.”

Bakura scoffed. “I’ll believe it when I hear it myself.”

“I think she’s actually starting to like you.” Malik winked.

“Right.”

“So, then what did you hear that was so important that you needed to interrupt me?” Malik asked.

“Oh, yeah. It was this weird, like, growling sound.”

“I think that was you.” Malik smirked.

“No! Before that!”

Malik shrugged. “Probably just something from outside. Dog or something. You _are_  right by the window.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Bakura agreed. “I suppose I’m just kind of freaked out because of...you know.” Bakura indicated his own leg and then Malik’s in turn.

“Yeah, I understand.” Malik suddenly brightened. “Hey! I know what will cheer you up.”

Before Bakura could even ask, Malik was running off. Moments later he was back. His hands were behind his back, hiding something.

“I...made you something.” A light blush colored Malik’s cheeks.

“Yeah?” Bakura looked at him with interest.

Malik revealed what he was hiding behind his back with a flourish, extending the hand that was holding the item towards Bakura.

It was a necklace that was hanging from his fingers. The cord was plain black, and suspended on the cord was a piece Bakura recognized as being an item of wire wrapped jewelry.

It was in the shape of a crescent moon, silver wires twisted around and around each other with silver beads threaded onto some of them, along with a silvery-gray stone Bakura didn't recognize wrapped up in the middle.

Bakura snatched it from his hand, immediately putting it on. “Thanks.” He didn't feel able to say anything further, but his cheeks colored to match Malik's.

The lights in the apartment seemed to get brighter for a moment, and at the same time, somewhere in the far distance, Bakura heard what sounded like an animal yelping. Maybe it was the dog from earlier.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bakura thought he saw a little yellow spark, something that looked like static electricity. But when he whipped his head around to look, there was nothing.

He turned back to Malik, a wide smile on his face, and Malik leaned in to kiss him. Bakura could see the way the apartment lights brightened even through his closed eyelids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been slow with updating this lately. I've just been focusing on working on my fic for the Thiefshipping Alchemy project—all the fics from that project including mine are being posted next week, by the way! Anyways, updates here may be a little slow until I'm done posting that other fic, but it's not a very long fic.


	19. Chapter 19

Bakura sat on the couch, playing with his new phone. He hadn’t really told Malik exactly why he’d wanted it—it would sound stupid to say he wanted a phone because he'd had a dream where he'd needed one. It _was_ stupid, he supposed, but it seemed to him he'd simply feel better knowing he had one. Besides, it wasn't as if there was any reason for him _not_ to have a phone.

But he hadn’t needed to explain it to Malik. It hadn’t been difficult to get Malik to agree that it was a good idea for him to have a phone just in case, “for emergencies.”

“You should call someone,” Malik said.

“I already called you,” Bakura replied.

“That doesn’t count, that was just to check to see if the phone is working right. I mean actually call someone. You know, use the phone for its intended purpose.”

“Who would I even call?”

“Ryou?” Malik suggested.

Bakura was hit with memories of the other night, when he’d been on the verge of panic and had wanted to call Ryou. Or rather, he’d dreamed about panicking and wanting to call Ryou. Not that he wanted to explain any of that to Malik. But it would be good to make sure he was able to call Ryou if he needed to for some reason. So he shrugged and said, “Sure.”

Malik grabbed his phone and entered Ryou’s number before handing it back to him. Bakura hit the button to call Ryou. He chuckled and said, “I bet he’ll be surprised that I’m calling him on the phone.” Malik and Ryou talked on the phone sometimes, but Bakura had never bothered to chat with Ryou on the phone himself, deeming it a pointless endeavor.

“Hello?” Bakura heard Ryou’s voice emanate from his phone.

“Hey, Ryou. It’s me!”

“Bakura‽”

Bakura had expected him to be surprised, but Ryou sounded absolutely incredulous. “Yeah, it’s me. Is it really that shocking that I’m calling?”

“It’s just...you’ve never called before...I didn’t think you ever would…”

“Well, if I would have known it meant that much to you,” Bakura said sarcastically.

“I’m glad to hear from you. You know...I miss you guys. You should come over here.”

“You know I hate going out,” Bakura said. “You should come here. I know Malik’s invited you before.”

“That’s...not possible,” Ryou said, sounding troubled.

“Why not?”

“Bakura...do you know where you are?”

Bakura’s eyebrows knitted together. “Of course. What kind of question is that? I’m with Malik in our apartment.”

“No, Bakura,” Ryou said. “You and Malik are both—“

Suddenly a loud blast of static cut off Ryou’s voice, and Bakura had to hold the phone away from his ear. “What were you saying? There was a bunch of static and I couldn’t hear you.”

He heard Ryou sigh. “That’s what happens when I try to tell Malik, too.”

“Ryou, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Ryou said, and he seemed to be trying to sound cheerful. “Just...have you noticed anything weird around there lately?”

“Not really,” Bakura said slowly. For some reason, he felt compelled to add, “Well, I have been having some weird dreams lately, but…”

“What kinds of dreams?” Ryou said quickly.

“Just...nightmares. Nothing special. I don’t really feel like going into the details about it with you.”

Ryou sighed again. “Just...if you do notice anything weird, and you want to talk to someone about it, or need help figuring it out...call me, alright? Promise?”

“What on earth are you on about?”

“Oh, you know me, always interested in chasing paranormal stuff. Just promise me, okay?”

“Uh, sure,” Bakura said, just so Ryou would stop asking. This conversation was really starting to make him uncomfortable. This wasn’t how he’d expected this call to go at all. “Look, I’ve got to go, alright? Talk to you later.” With that, Bakura hung up without saying goodbye.

Malik gave him a questioning look. “What was that all about?”

“I have no idea. He wasn’t making any sense...but maybe I wasn’t hearing him right. There was a bunch of static. You're right about the reception being ass in this place.”

Malik nodded. “Well, I’m sure you can find something to do with the phone anyways. I don’t seem to have any problems when I’m playing games.”

“What? Those dumb phone games?”

“Some of them aren't bad.” Malik shrugged. “I kind of like Neko Atsume.”

“What's that?”

“Oh, you basically just collect cats. Seems like it might be something you'd like. Didn't you guys worship cats in Egypt?”

“I don't worship anything.” Bakura laughed. “If I won't even worship the gods, I sure as hell won't worship anything else.”

“I like cats, though,” Malik mused. “They're independent, and proud, and self-sufficient. Plus, if a cat likes you, it actually means something. They're not all slavish like dogs. But they're still really loyal once you win their affections.”

“So, you like them because they're like you?” Bakura winked.

Malik laughed. “Also, cats are the only animals that domesticated themselves. That's pretty cool.”

“I suppose I like cats, too. They're not quite as good as snakes, but…” Bakura trailed off. He looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling worn out.

“What's wrong?”

Bakura sighed. “I'm just _tired_.”

Malik moved closer to Bakura on the couch and started to gently rub his back. “Not getting much sleep? Because of the nightmares?”

Bakura nodded. “I don't know what my problem is. I mean, I've always had nightmares, it's just...I don't know, these are more bothersome. Even aside from the scratches and stuff, these just seem so...real.”

Malik nodded. “I've been having more nightmares than usual myself. But I think it's just the time of year. I swear, it seems like it's dark out almost all the time now.”

“Yeah,” Bakura sighed. Bakura fingered the pendant around his neck, the moon jewelry Malik had made for him.

“Feel like taking a nap?”

Bakura snorted. “Knowing my luck, I'd just have another nightmare.”

Malik suddenly shifted, flipping around so he was sitting with his back against the armrest of the couch, and then he grabbed Bakura pulled him over so that Bakura was sitting between his legs. He guided Bakura's head down to lay against his chest. “Go to sleep. I'll stay awake, and if you start looking like you're having a bad dream, moving around or making faces or noises or anything, I'll wake you up.”

“No, that's stupid.” Bakura struggled to get away from Malik, but Malik held him fast. “Quit it, Malik. Don't coddle me.”

“I'm not. I'm not sleepy at all. It's the middle of the day.” Malik gave a glance to the darkened window and scowled. “Or at least it should be.” He rolled his eyes at the darkness outside, and at that moment, the wind howled. “I was just going to play around on my phone. So it won't bother me at all if you're sleeping on me.”

“But—”

“I suppose you can stay awake if you really want to, but I'm just going to be playing games on my phone either way. So it makes no difference if you're sleeping on me, or sitting on the other side of the couch awake.”

“Well...if it doesn't make a difference…”

“Stop annoying me and go to sleep,” Malik said.

“ _You’re_ annoying,” Bakura mumbled. But he rolled onto his side and curled up, closing his eyes, and soon fell asleep to the sound of Malik's heartbeat and the feeling of Malik's fingers combing through his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really loving the new blogging site pillowfort.io (it was made to basically be a Tumblr that doesn't suck) so if any of you guys are on there, you should let me know so we can follow each other!
> 
> Anyways I'll probably update this fic again in about 3 weeks when I'm done posting my fic for the Thiefshipping Alchemy event.


	20. Chapter 20

Malik ripped open the front door, then slammed it behind him as hard as he could, as usual.

The sound made Bakura look up from his place on the couch. He noticed it as soon as he glanced at Malik’s face—there was a giant bruise covering his left cheek.

Bakura let out a little gasp before he could help it. “What happened to your face?” he asked sharply.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Malik ripped off his jacket and tossed it towards the coat rack. He missed, and the jacket fell to the floor. Malik didn’t bother to pick it up.

But Bakura barely noticed Malik’s uncharacteristic action of leaving clothing on the floor. Instead, his eyes were focused on the line of bright red scratches that covered his bicep, revealed by his sleeveless shirt now that his jacket had been discarded.

“You have a huge bruise on your face. And look at your arm—there are a bunch of scratches on it.”

Malik forcefully kicked his shoes across the room. “What?” he snapped. But then he seemed to register what Bakura had said and looked down at his arm, starting a bit when he noticed the scratches. He reached up to touch his own face, and winced at the contact as his fingers poked at the bruise.

“What happened? How did you get hurt?” Bakura’s instinct was to go to Malik and fuss over him, but he wasn’t sure how well received it would be at the moment, what with Malik being so irritable, so he stayed put.

Malik shrugged. “I don’t really remember.”

“What do you mean? How can you not remember?”

“I dunno. Maybe I had a little accident with my bike.”

Bakura looked at him like he was crazy. “Are you seriously trying to tell me you wouldn’t remember crashing your _bike_?”

Malik snorted. “Well, I’m sure I’m more banged up than the bike is. Obviously I’d remember if Death got messed up.”

“That still doesn’t make any sense.” Bakura frowned. “How would you not remember whether you just got in a wreck or not, even if it was minor?”

Malik shrugged again. “Well, maybe it was something else. Like I said, I don’t really know how it happened.”

“Does it have anything to do with why you were just slamming the door and throwing your jacket and shoes all over?”

Malik looked surprised, as if he’d only just realized that he’d done that. He glanced at the jacket on the floor, and slowly walked over to pick it up and put it on its hook where it belonged. “Maybe. Probably.”

Bakura gave him a worried look. “Malik…”

Malik glanced at Bakura, and suddenly looked extremely tired. “Look, I...actually you’re right, I’m really not in a very good mood.” Malik reached up and gingerly touched his cheek, wincing again. “And now that you mention it, I’m actually pretty sore. And...I’m totally exhausted. I don’t even want dinner—I just want to pass out.”

Bakura looked at Malik with concern.

“I seriously don’t mean to freak you out. Just...can we _please_  go to bed? I promise we can talk about this in the morning.” Malik gave him a pleading look.

Bakura looked at Malik skeptically, but slowly said, “Alright...okay.” He definitely wasn’t going to let Malik forget his his promise, but he didn’t think he’d get anywhere by pressing the issue right now—not with Malik being in the mood he was in. And Bakura was incredibly tired himself. He was almost always tired lately.

Malik looked relieved at Bakura's acquiescence, and immediately headed for their bedroom without a word. Bakura followed. Once in the bedroom, Malik shed his jeans, and Bakura pulled off his top and pants and tossed them to the floor. Now both in their boxers, they climbed into bed.

Malik put his arms around Bakura and drew him close, and Bakura let him. He let out a heavy sigh, placing his head on Malik’s chest and trying to relax, trying to ignore his worry, and the alarm bells in his head telling him something was wrong, very wrong.

Despite how tired he was, he didn’t think he’d sleep any time soon; he was too tense with stress and worry. But only minutes later, the steady rhythm of Malik’s heartbeat had lulled him into a deep slumber.

 

* * *

 

Bakura opened his eyes to darkness. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move in the shadows.

_It’s just a dream_ , he told himself. _Just a dream like the others—it isn’t real._

Suddenly, a great, dark creature leapt out of the blackness, pushing him to his back and knocking the wind out of him.

It was too dark to see anything other than shining white teeth and claws, which were soon sinking into his exposed flesh and ripping, tearing. Bakura screamed.

“You’re a tasty one,” the demon rasped. “And we have forever to get to know each other. How lovely is that?”

He felt a talon encircle his leg, and then it snapped closed, crushing the bone in its grip, then continuing to constrict even further, grinding sinew and muscle to shreds with its strength. Bakura bit his tongue until it bled, trying to keep from crying out.

_It’s only a dream_ , he told himself again.

Then, a glowing light caught his attention, and though he barely had the strength to do it, he turned his head in the direction of the illumination.

Someone was walking through the darkness—someone human. How long had it been since he’d seen another human soul?

The figure pulsed with a golden glow. He didn’t need to get a look at the person’s face to know who it was. The light pulsed with the beat of Malik’s ib, glowed with the essence of his ba.

He felt him before he saw him, but then he did see him—Malik had wandered close enough now so that he could see his violet eyes, his cheeks streaked with tears that had smeared his kohl.

“Bakura?” he called. “Bakura, where are you?”

Bakura almost cried with relief. His pain seemed far away now. Malik’s light was the only thing he could feel. His heart pounded with the knowledge that Malik had come for him—he really had. He was here, he was looking for him.

“I wouldn’t answer him if I were you,” the demon said in a hushed rasp. “Do you think he’d want you like this? Look how broken you are.”

Bakura looked down at his mangled body, covered in blood, flesh torn, bones shattered.

“Not your body. Your soul,” the demon said. “Besides, it might be...dangerous for him if you call him over. If you’re quiet, he won’t notice us.”

“Bakura! Bakura, you asshole, I’m not leaving without you!”

“Malik!” Bakura cried. He couldn’t think about the demon’s warnings. He _needed_  Malik. Besides, Malik was a stubborn bastard; if he said he wasn’t leaving until he found Bakura, then it was true.

It only took the one shout, and then Malik was running towards him. The demon immediately let go of Bakura and pounced on Malik, landing on his back, its weight knocking him to the ground—or the darkness that passed for ground in this place.

But, somehow, Malik managed to throw the demon off and struggle to his feet, despite the pain that showed on his face from the heavy blow to his back. He reached Bakura, and immediately took him into his arms.

“Bakura...Bakura, come on. You have to get up.”

Bakura tried. Malik let Bakura lean on him, supporting his weight. Bakura didn’t know how he managed it, but somehow, once inside the glow around Malik, he was able to stand.

Then they were running—or rather, Malik was running, and Bakura was hobbling alongside him, hanging onto his arm for support.

He let Malik lead them, and eventually they got to a place where the darkness looked a bit different in a way Bakura couldn’t quite describe. Malik spit out some words in Arabic, then reached into his pocket and tossed some kind of sparkling powdered substance in front of them.

But nothing happened.

“Damn it!” Malik cried. “The spell was supposed to—“

They heard the thunder of heavy footsteps behind them, something running towards them on all fours.

“We’ll find another way,” Malik said. “Come on.”

They started running again.

But suddenly everything went dark, and Malik’s grip was gone from his body.

The next time Bakura was aware of anything, he was already struggling against some kind of invisible force that suspended him in the air. But he was unable to move.

He heard a scream, and suddenly realized Malik was laid out in front of him, trapped underneath a huge, black demon. The demon gave a roar, and then sunk its claws into Malik’s back and drew them downwards.

Bakura gasped, startled, and not just because of the horrifying scene in front of him. He remembered having this dream before—remembered the demon tearing apart Malik’s back.

Malik let out heart-rending cries of utter agony as the demon’s claws ripped apart his back, the flesh tearing off in strips, leaving bloody gouges in the wake of the giant claws.

Bakura shouted with rage and tried to break away from the force holding him, to get to Malik, but he couldn’t move a muscle.

“You do not belong to me...yet,” the demon rumbled in Malik’s direction. “But the thief does. You cannot take him. I suggest you forget him and leave this place while you still can.”

The demon finally released Malik, but Bakura found he himself was still bound by invisible chains.

“You’re free to go,” the great black thing said to Malik. “Leave him.”

Malik’s arms shook as he tried to sit up, pain twisting his features. Bakura gave him a pleading look, feeling unable to speak.

“Never!” Malik spat. “He risked everything to help me...he died trying to save me and my family...I’ll never leave him here! He’s not yours, he’s _mine_!”

The demon roared, and slapped Malik back down to the ground. Then it turned to Bakura. “Your lover is strong. Stronger than you, I think. Maybe I would rather have him for my own. If you desire to escape this place, I shall keep him instead of you.”

The force holding Bakura suddenly dissipated, and Bakura fell to his knees. He groaned in pain as he dragged his broken body away from the demon. He crawled into Malik’s arms, and Malik held him weakly.

Malik’s hands came up to cup Bakura’s face, his thumbs stroking his cheeks. “It’s alright. Please go. I only wanted to get you out. That’s all that matters.”

“Listen to him,” the demon hissed. “This is your only chance to escape eternal torture. Let me have him, and you can go.”

Bakura mimicked Malik’s motion, placing his hands against his cheeks. He looked back at the demon and shook his head. “I won’t leave him.” Then he turned back to Malik. “You sure you don’t want to get yourself out of here?”

Malik shook his head. “I’ll stay with you. Always.”

Bakura gave him a pained, crooked smile. “Then I’ll stay with you, too.”

The demon shrieked, almost sounding as if it were in pain, but Bakura barely heard it. He only heard Malik whisper his name, and then they were kissing, and the demon’s screams reached a crescendo, but its sounds of rage seemed to grow quieter as Bakura felt himself fading out, almost as if he were fainting.

But he was still kissing Malik, and now he could suddenly see light through his closed eyelids. He opened his eyes, and saw Malik’s wide pupils staring back at him.

They both looked around. They seemed to be in an entirely normal bedroom.

“What happened? Where are we?” Bakura asked.

“I don’t know. But we’re here together. It’s going to be fine,” Malik said.

But Bakura could see the darkness swirling outside the window.

Bakura awoke with a start. But he immediately calmed when he noticed Malik’s arms were already around him. They were in exactly the same position they’d been in when they'd fallen asleep earlier that evening.

“Bakura?” Malik murmured. “You alright?”

Bakura gazed at Malik’s face. “Yeah. Just a nightmare.”

“You need me to get up?” Malik still hadn’t even opened his eyes. He was obviously exhausted.

“No, it’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

“You sure?”

“Totally sure.” Bakura snuggled in closer to Malik.

“Mm. I’ll make you a really good breakfast in the morning...not just cereal...something like…” but Malik fell asleep before he even finished the sentence.

Bakura gave Malik a soft smile that he couldn’t see. It had just been a dream. Everything would seem better in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a lot to everyone still sticking with this fic! Sorry updates have been so slow despite the chapters being short. Updates should be more regular from here on out. And the reveal of exactly what's going on is getting really close!


	21. Chapter 21

Bakura awoke to the noises of dishes clinking and cabinet doors closing. For a moment, it seemed as if it were a normal day like any other as Bakura woke up to the sounds of Malik making them both breakfast in the kitchen.

But as he came fully awake, he remembered the previous evening. Malik had come home with bruises and scratches, hadn't remembered how he'd gotten them, and had then refused to talk about it. But Malik had promised they would discuss it in the morning.

He didn't want Malik to slip out and go to work before they had a chance to talk. So he called out, “Are you going to work today? Because we need to talk before you go.”

He heard Malik's laughter drift back to him. “What are you talking about? You know I've never worked a day in my life.”

At Malik's words, Bakura felt like he'd had a bucket of cold ice water dumped over his head.

How could it be that Malik had never had a job? He was at work all the time.

Then it occurred to him that Malik was, of course, only kidding. He had laughed as he'd said it, after all. That was the only thing that made any sense.

He supposed he could ask just to make sure, but he didn't want to interrogate Malik about a dumb joke. Malik would think he was crazy.

Still, though...the scratches and bruises Malik had come home with the previous day...something strange was going on. He needed to figure out what it was.

But he seemed to feel a tug at the back of his mind telling him to drop it.

Then a flash from the nightmare he'd had the previous night suddenly came to him. He remembered Malik running towards him, and then being knocked to the ground by a giant demon that had jumped out of the blackness. He felt the pain in Malik's back as if it were his own.

He could remember nothing else about the dream. He tried to think back to the events of the nightmare, but nothing else came to him.

All that was left was a lingering sense of _wrongness_ , though he couldn't tell where it came from. The dream? The incident with Malik's bruises and scratches yesterday? The weird joke Malik had just made? All of those things?

He didn't want to ask Malik about his work, but the feeling of _wrongness_ was too pervasive, and he knew he'd only feel better if he were sure. So before he could talk himself into stalling further, he called, “You're kidding, right? You do have a job, don't you?”

“Of course not. I've never had a job,” Malik called back. “What are you talking about?” There was a pause, during which Bakura felt stunned and unable to speak, and then Malik called, “Bakura...are you alright?”

Bakura heard footsteps coming towards him then, Malik heading back to the bedroom to check on him, but somehow the sound seemed far away.

He felt a cold ball of fear beginning to grow in the pit of his stomach as he thought about the implication of Malik's words.

And then it wasn't just Malik's footsteps that were coming from a great distance—it was everything, everything seemed far away. He realized he didn't feel entirely connected to his body any longer.

Then the sounds ceased altogether, and the light disappeared. Before he knew it, he was again standing alone in the dark.

Hadn't he just been sitting up in bed?

Was he dreaming again? Was that all this was?

Something smacked him hard in the back of his head, and he cried out before he could help it as he was knocked to the ground. A bright flash of pain streaked across his back, and it took him a few moments to recognize the sensation of claws slicing through his skin.

“I love it when you sleep,” a rasping voice said, and Bakura knew that voice, had heard it before. “So long since you've seen your lover...the magic has all run out.”

Bakura felt a heavy blow to his stomach, and he sucked in breath and clutched himself, the wind knocked out of him. He could hear himself retching as the voice spoke again. “So nice that I found you before he could get to you. I do so love playing with you this way.”

A wavering image appeared before Bakura's eyes. It was familiar. He'd seen it so many times in so many dreams. The fire, the wailing spirits, his dying people, all their faces.

But suddenly, seemingly for the first time, he truly recognized the image. It was his mother, his mother's face. But it was distorted, screaming, melting with the heat of the gold, skin dripping like wax, and he knew then that this was the only way he'd ever remember her face looking.

Grief and sorrow radiated from his core, and he was choking on it, gasping for breath. Then a dark appendage shot through the image, obliterating it, and struck him on the shoulder.

As he grunted in pain, a deep voice hissed, “Do you know what we are doing to your lover at present? Let us just say...it is something worse than this.”

Before Bakura could react to that he felt a hard, painful smack against his thigh, and the voice spoke again. “I could keep you for a while yet...however...I believe it may be more fun to send you back alone.”

Bakura heard a low growling noise, and then there was another hard impact against his head. He could still hear the growling and what almost sounded like soft, animal laughter as he felt his consciousness slipping away. Before he faded out, he felt the claws swipe over his back once again, leaving a stinging pain in their wake.

When he came to, he was lying in bed again. His head pounded. He instinctively curled into a protective ball.

Then he suddenly felt sick, and he ran for the bathroom.

Throwing up didn't help. After being sick, he was shaking, skin covered in a sheen of cold sweat, head splitting with pain, and his stomach didn't even feel better.

He reached towards his head and felt a large lump on his skull. Slowly, he turned his head, twisting around in front of the bathroom mirror in an attempt to see his own back.

It was covered in bright red scratches.

He was sick again. The effort of throwing up seemed to make his head throb harder, and even after emptying the contents of his stomach he still had a gnawing pain deep in his belly.

But he didn't feel like he needed to vomit again, and so he made his way to the living room on autopilot, feeling far away from himself.

He already knew what he would find. If Malik were home, he would have heard him being sick and come to check on him.

He reached the living room and as he'd suspected, Malik was nowhere to be seen. He slowly turned towards the window. It was night out again.

Was he still dreaming, even now? But the pain in his body felt too real.

He was dizzy and nauseous, and had to sit down. But as soon as he seated himself on the couch, he jumped at the feeling of a new pain, this one on the back of his leg, the pain flaring as soon as his thigh had touched the cushion.

He looked down and lifted his leg a bit to see the back of his thigh and found a bright red welt there. It looked almost as if he'd been lashed by a very thick whip.

He sighed and moved towards the front of the seat so the wounded part of his leg was no longer touching the couch. Then he adjusted a bit, pulling his legs up and scooting back again, making sure not to let the back of his right thigh touch anything. But he couldn't scoot back too far; his back still burned with bright pain, and it hurt him to lean it against the back of the couch.

His shoulder hurt as well, but it was one of his more minor pains. He absently reached up to massage it.

His head still ached, and he felt like he was about to pass out. He wondered if he had a concussion. How bad had the blows to his head been?

Maybe he really was just dreaming. Maybe he should let himself pass out, and when he woke up, he'd be in bed with Malik and it would turn out none of this had happened, not even the part where Malik had come home with a bruised face and scratches on his arm.

The idea was attractive, and he felt compelled to do it.

But weren't you supposed to stay awake if you had a concussion?

His back stung, and for some reason he felt the urge to touch it. His hand came away bloody.

This was all too real. He wanted to convince himself he was still dreaming, but he couldn't believe it.

He tried to force himself to think, though it was difficult considering the way his head felt as if it were splitting open.

Malik coming home last night with bruises and scratches...had that been real? He had a clear memory of it, just like he had a clear memory of Malik telling him earlier this morning that he didn't have a job. These incidents hadn't faded from his memory the way his nightmares tended to.

Could it really be possible that Malik didn't have a job?

He tried to think back, to remember any time Malik had said anything about his work, any time Bakura had talked to him about the subject.

The only thing he could come up with was the memory of the time a few months back when he'd woken up from a nightmare with scratches on his chest and arm. Malik had been nursing his wounds, and Bakura had asked if Malik was going to work that day, and Malik had responded _What are you talking about?_  Bakura had assumed it must have been a weekend day and dropped it, and Malik had then made a comment about Bakura's nightmare having scrambled his head.

Bakura frantically tried to search his mind for any other time Malik had said anything at all about his job, any time Bakura had tried to talk to him about it, but he was coming up blank.

And then he had to admit to himself that he had never, not once, actually talked to Malik about his job. If Malik did have a job, Bakura had no idea what it was. Or why he seemed to hate it so much. Or why he worked at all when he didn't need to.

They'd never had a single conversation about it.

And why not? Bakura considered the answer, and all he could come up with was the idea that he didn't like bothering Malik about his job because it seemed to put him in a bad mood and he got the impression that Malik didn't want to talk about it.

And since exactly when had he ever avoided a subject because it annoyed Malik?

Why did he even believe Malik had a job, when Malik had never said he did, and it really made no sense for him to be working at all considering how rich he was?

The evidence kept piling up, pointing to the fact that something wasn't right.

And Malik was gone right now. Even though Malik had promised he wouldn't leave without telling him. And he didn't even need the promise—he knew Malik would never do that.

Malik had always been protective of him, even from the very beginning. He remembered the day they'd first met, the way Malik had ripped up his shirt to bandage his bleeding arm for him, and had then laid his body over his bike and run a hand through his hair. He remembered shortly after that, when Malik had prevented him from getting attacked by those guys who had wanted to beat him up, how he'd stood in front of him and taken a punch for him. And he remembered right after that, Malik holding him with his arm around him, helping him walk, looking down at him with concern.

And that was just the first day they'd known each other. Malik had only gotten more protective of him since then. So Malik would never leave him alone in the middle of the night without even telling him he was going out.

But Bakura was getting lost in old memories now. He needed to stay in the present, to figure out what was wrong. And something was definitely wrong.

He forced himself to focus on the current problem.

Malik had come home last night with visible injuries, and had said he didn't remember how he'd gotten them. And Bakura knew Malik wouldn't lie to him—if he said he didn't remember, then he didn't.

So what did that mean?

It meant Malik was losing time again, he suddenly realized. How had that not occurred to him before? Sure, he'd been worried when Malik hadn't been able to remember how he'd gotten scratches all over his arm and a huge bruise on his face, but somehow he hadn't put it together that Malik not remembering getting injured couldn't mean anything else—nothing other than the fact that he was losing time again.

It seemed so obvious now.

So now the question was whether this was something new, or something that had been happening to Malik for a while.

Was the incident from last night the only incident? The only time Malik hadn't been able to remember where he was or how he'd gotten hurt?

He tried to think of whether anything similar had happened before, and he came up with a memory of the time Malik had come home from a supposed haircut with his hair totally mangled, scratches and bruises on his head. And Malik had been resistant to talking about how it had happened.

Bakura remembered how, after seeing Malik's disastrous haircut and the wounds on his head, he had half-jokingly questioned whether Malik's alternate personality was back.

Malik had eventually given him an explanation of sorts when Bakura had pressed him with questions about how such a thing could have happened to Malik's hair and scalp without him noticing, but his explanation hadn't made a lot of sense. And anyways, if Malik was losing time again, then even a decent explanation for the missing hair and the injuries to his head wouldn't mean much.

The fact that Malik wouldn't lie to him didn't mean everything Malik said to him was true; it only meant that _Malik_  believed it was true.

He thought now of what Malik had told him about all the years he'd lived with his alternate personality. He'd told Bakura about how he'd always come up with explanations about the lost time for himself, how he'd created stories in his mind about what he’d been doing when his other personality was in control. He'd said he'd had to really believe those stories in order to remain unaware that his body was regularly getting hijacked by another entity.

So was that it? Was Malik's other personality back, taking over his mind again?

But then...that would only explain the strange things that were happening to Malik. Malik's alternate personality being back wouldn't cause all the strange things that were happening to Bakura as well. Bakura had been unaware that Malik didn't have a job, and it hadn't even occurred to him how odd it was that he'd never once talked about Malik's work to him. And Bakura had been having trouble lately telling the difference between dreams and reality. He'd had nightmares for as long as he could remember, and he'd never before been confused as to whether they'd really happened or had just been dreams.

He'd also been waking up from those nightmares with injuries. He was injured now, and these injuries were so severe he didn't believe he could have possibly done this to himself by thrashing around in his sleep.

Of course, it was conceivable that Malik's other personality would attack him while he was asleep. But that didn't explain the other things Bakura had been experiencing. Besides, Bakura was a light sleeper; he'd had to be in ancient Egypt. Normally, the slightest disturbance would wake him up. There was no way he'd sleep through Malik's alternate personality beating him bloody in his sleep and then not awaken until Malik was already gone.

But if Malik's other personality being back wasn't the explanation, what was? There had to be something that would explain why Malik was getting injured and losing time, and which would also explain all the disturbing things that had been happening to Bakura.

He tried to think, but nothing came to him, nothing that would make sense of all the strange things that had been happening to both of them.

Bakura felt a lightning bolt of pain slice through his skull, and he dropped his head into his hands. But the sudden movement brought on a flare of pain from his mangled back, and he cried out in frustration.

He was so tired, and in so much pain, and he couldn't think properly.

Again he wanted to believe this was all a dream, to go to sleep and hope everything was normal when he woke up.

The idea was attractive.

But what if he wasn't dreaming? Malik was gone right now, and he could be in trouble. If this was real, Malik almost certainly was in trouble.

If he wasn't dreaming, then something bad was happening not only to him, but to Malik.

Something bad was happening to Malik and he had to help him.

But what could he do? Every question he asked himself about their situation only brought more questions and more confusion.

Suddenly, he remembered his phone. He had a phone now, unlike the other times he'd woken up to find Malik gone. He leapt up to get it, though his thigh and his back and his shoulder screamed at him for this movement. But he ignored the pain and quickly hit the button to dial Malik.

Somehow, he wasn't surprised when the phone went straight to voice mail.

For a few moments, he just stared at the phone, feeling dumbfounded and helpless.

But then he remembered why he'd gotten this phone in the first place. He'd gotten it for the purpose of being able to call Ryou in exactly this type of situation.

He really did not want to talk about his personal problems to Ryou. But there was no one else he could talk to. And he felt that if he didn’t talk to someone, do something to try to solve whatever was happening, he’d go crazy alone here in the apartment. And he could never forgive himself if Malik were in trouble and he did nothing. So he had to call.

He decided to imagine that he definitely was still dreaming. That would make talking about it easier.

He hit the button to call Ryou.


	22. Chapter 22

“Ryou.”

“Bakura! I’m really glad you called!”

Bakura had no interest in idle chatter. He decided to just admit right off why he was calling. “I’m...having a problem.”

“Do you need help?” Ryou asked quickly. “Remember I told you to call me if you noticed anything weird going on there. Have you noticed anything weird?”

“Yeah, actually. Um...how…” But Bakura decided it didn’t matter how he knew. He just wanted to get this over with. “Malik is gone, and I don’t know where he is.”

“What?” Ryou said sharply. “Malik isn’t there with you in the...apartment?”

“No. I just said that.”

Ryou took a breath. “Bakura, has…has Malik ever gone outside before? Have you ever been alone in the apartment without Malik?”

“Of course,” Bakura said. He thought that was an odd question for Ryou to ask.

“Are you sure? You’ve definitely been alone in the apartment before this?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Bakura said irritably. “I’ve been alone in the apartment lots of times. In fact, Malik is out so much I actually thought he had a job, but...well, today, he told me he’s never had a job, so…”

“Oh...oh,” Ryou said. “So the other times he’s gone out...he’s come back?”

“Well of course he comes back,” Bakura said. “Why wouldn’t he? But I don’t understand why you’re asking about him just _going out_. The issue is that he’s gone right now when he...shouldn’t be.”

“And when should he be gone?”

“Well, when—“ Bakura broke off. He was going to say it was normal for Malik to be gone when he was at work, but...that wasn’t true. Malik didn’t have a job.

How often had Malik ever actually told him he was leaving? He suddenly realized the answer was never. Malik was gone often, but never told Bakura that he was leaving, or told him where he was going. And Malik wouldn’t leave without telling him...at least, not voluntarily.

“Oh, gods,” Bakura said under his breath. He felt like ice was spreading through his veins.

“But, Bakura,” Ryou said, “the important thing is he’s always come back, right? And he’s fine when he comes back, isn’t he? So it shouldn’t be any different this time.”

“Well...sometimes when he comes back he has cuts...bruises…” Bakura trailed off. He felt dazed, barely aware he was speaking.

“But no serious injuries,” Ryou said. “So I don’t think it’s possible for him to be seriously hurt, or kept away from you permanently. If it were, they—it already would have happened by now.”

“What...what are you talking about?” Bakura asked. This conversation with Ryou was making him feel even crazier than he had earlier, before he'd decided to call.

Ryou sighed. “I wish I could just tell you the truth, but…”

“Wait, what? Ryou, do you know something?” Bakura demanded.

“I do,” Ryou said. “But I can’t tell you.”

“What the fuck? You’d better tell me—“

“Believe me, I want to!” Ryou exclaimed. “But I mean I literally can’t. You know how you guys are always saying you get terrible reception? Every time someone tries to tell you guys—me, Rishid, Ishizu—we get cut off by a bunch of static. Every time.”

“What do you mean?” asked Bakura.

“I mean the static always happening at those exact moments is not a coincidence,” Ryou stated.

“Are you saying there’s some kind of mystical force preventing you from telling me?” Bakura asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Well...then what the fuck am I supposed to do? Are you saying you can’t help me?”

“Well...I don’t know exactly how much I can say without the static cutting me off...but what if I tried to help you figure it out yourself?” Ryou suggested. “Hopefully, now that you’re aware _something_ is going on, you’ll be more receptive to...hints.”

“What kind of hints?” Bakura asked. “I don't have time for games, Ryou.”

“This definitely isn’t a game,” Ryou said. “Just listen...and think about what I say, and the questions I ask you.”

“Alright, fine. I guess I can’t think of anything better to try.”

“Alright.” Ryou paused, seeming to think for a moment. “Bakura...where do you think you live?”

“With Malik in our apartment, of course,” Bakura answered.

“No, I mean...what country do you live in?”

“Well, we—“ Bakura broke off. He suddenly realized he didn’t know. It seemed absurd now that Ryou had made him think about it, but somehow, it had just...never occurred to him to wonder where they lived. “Alright, I don’t know. What the fuck does that mean, then?”

The realization that he didn't even know where the hell they lived shook Bakura, but he didn't have time to dwell on it before Ryou spoke again.

“Hm,” Ryou said, seeming to think again. “Bakura, what happened after the final game?”

“I lost...obviously,” Bakura said icily.

“But after that.”

“Well...I got sent to the Shadow Realm, of course. But I...really prefer not to think about that. I have enough nightmares about it.”

“I understand that, but...Bakura, this is important. How did you get out?”

“Malik came and got me out,” Bakura said. “You know that.”

“Yes, Malik came to get you...but what exactly happened when he found you?” Ryou asked. “Do you remember?”

“Does it matter?” Bakura snapped. “I told you I don’t like thinking about my time in the Shadows.”

“Bakura, you do want me to help you figure out where Malik is, don’t you?”

“Of course. I certainly wouldn’t call you just to chat.”

“Then can you please just trust that if I’m asking you something, it’s important?” Ryou said, sounding desperate. “You know me, Bakura. Do you honestly think I’d force you to think about your time in the Shadows just for the fun of it?”

“Fine, fine,” Bakura said. “As a matter of fact I do remember what happened when he found me. I remember the moment he showed up. He was the only light in that whole hellscape of darkness.”

Bakura blinked, suddenly unsure as to why he’d said that. That had just been a dream he’d had...hadn’t it?

“Yes, Bakura, Malik came to the Shadow Realm and found you. But do you remember what happened after that? How did Malik try to get you two back out?”

“Well, we—“ Bakura stumbled. “I—I don’t remember.”

“Don’t you think that’s the kind of thing you should remember?” Ryou asked gently. When Bakura said nothing, Ryou said, “Alright, let’s start at the beginning. What happened right after you first saw Malik in the Shadow Realm?”

“Wait...let me think,” Bakura said. He tried to think back to the dream he’d had. Was it a dream, or a memory? What had happened after Malik had come? His mind was suddenly hit with a scene of himself and Malik holding each other, both of them bloody and broken, clutching at each other in the darkness. “The demons...the demons hurt us,” Bakura said slowly.

He heard Ryou sigh with sympathy. “And then?” Ryou asked quietly.

“I don’t…” Bakura shook his head. He tried to replay the dream in his mind, but he was only getting flashes of images—Malik with his back being clawed open...Malik trying to pull Bakura along through the darkness….

Bakura suddenly realized he’d had that same nightmare a hundred times before. So why was it so difficult to remember what had happened in it?

And why was he trying so hard to remember a nightmare, anyways? He usually tried to forget his nightmares. But then...if that had been just a dream...what _did_  actually happen when Malik came and found him in the Shadow Realm? Ryou was right...that didn’t seem like the type of thing he’d forget.

Was he having the dream over and over because some part of him was trying to remember?

“I...I’m confused.” Bakura barely realized he’d spoken out loud.

“Bakura,” Ryou said softly. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to say this…but let me try. After Malik found you in the Shadow Realm, do you remember you and Malik ever _leaving_?”

Suddenly, at Ryou’s words, every moment of the nightmare came back to him full force. The torture, the pain...the deal the demon had tried to make with Malik, and then with Bakura...trying to get them to leave each other, trying to convince each of them in turn to leave the other behind.

But they’d both refused.

They’d promised to stay with each other, even if it meant...

Bakura had been silent for more than a minute by then as the dream replayed inside his mind. Ryou hadn’t said anything either, apparently waiting for Bakura’s answer.

“Oh...oh, gods,” Bakura finally said, the cold realization spreading through him. “You’re...you’re trying to say we never left. We’re still in the Shadow Realm.”

“Yes,” Ryou said, the relief evident in his voice. “Now Bakura—don’t panic!”

“Wait, wait,” Bakura cut him off. “That doesn’t make any sense. I—I mean, obviously, we must have left! I’m in our apartment right now! I can see it! We have...a stove, and a shower, and a TV, and a Nintendo Switch...are you telling me the Shadow Realm has Nintendo?”

“Bakura...when was the last time you were outside of the apartment?”

“I don’t—" Bakura broke off as he suddenly remembered a different dream he’d had a while ago, the one where he’d been arguing with a dream version of Malik and Malik had asked him the same question. He hadn’t been able to remember the last time he'd left the apartment then, either.

“No, no,” Bakura muttered to himself. “That was just a dream. They were all just nightmares. It doesn’t mean anything.” His mind grasped for any other explanation, any way for what Ryou was saying to be wrong.

He could feel himself starting to panic.

But Ryou went on.

“You haven’t ever left the apartment,” Ryou said.

“I haven't ever left,” Bakura echoed, dazed, as he realized the truth in Ryou's words. The more he thought about it, the more he knew it was true. He couldn't remember a single time he'd been outside of the apartment. He'd always made excuses for why he didn't want to go out.

And why? Sure, he was tired lately. And sure, he didn't like people and often preferred to stay home. But to _never_ go out? To never be willing go out with Malik, or visit Ryou, or...anything? He could no longer make sense of why it had seemed rational to him at the time to refuse to leave the apartment for any reason. Thinking back on it now, it almost seemed as if there was some kind of...force...compelling him to stay inside.

“Because it’s not really an apartment,” Ryou said, breaking into his thoughts. “And you can’t leave, because outside is…I don’t know if I can say it, but maybe, now that you've figured it out yourself, I can say...outside is the Shadows.”

“What the fuck do you mean, it’s not really an apartment?” Bakura shrieked, panic flaring in his chest at Ryou's statement. “What the hell else could it be?”

“Well, I can’t really be sure, but I believe it’s some form of magical construct created by your and Malik’s powers combined,” Ryou said. “You and Malik are both capable of using magic, and I believe you each have a strong ka...maybe, with two such powerful souls being in close proximity, it’s allowed your magic to combine to create something that’s protecting you from the Shadows. I’ve been doing a lot of research on this, and—"

“Oh, that’s your theory, is it?” Bakura snapped.

“I’m sorry, I got a little carried away. You know how I get about the occult and the supernatural.”

“You’re...you’re fucking kidding me,” Bakura said in disbelief. Bakura’s voice rose again as he yelled, “Is this _fun_ to you?”

“No, no...look, Bakura I’ve been researching this _because_ I’m trying to get you two out of there. And I think I can. I understand how upsetting this must be, but if you could just manage to calm down, you’d realize there’s a solution here—"

“Calm down?” Bakura screamed. “You’re telling me Malik and I never left the Shadow Realm and you want me to _calm down_? Hell, I’m not even sure if I believe anything you’re saying!”

“Bakura, listen...can you think of any other explanation for all the things I’ve brought to your attention?” Ryou asked. “And do you honestly think I’d lie to you about something like this?”

Bakura suddenly felt all the rage drain out of him at Ryou’s words.

It was an awful feeling. As long as he just let himself be consumed by anger, he could avoid thinking about…

But it was no use. He couldn’t deny it to himself—Ryou _wouldn’t_ lie to him about something like this.

“Maybe...maybe I’m still dreaming right now,” Bakura said weakly. It was the only other explanation he could come up with.

“I think you know the truth now,” Ryou said quietly.

Bakura was silent for several moments. Then he collapsed heavily on the couch with a loud, “Fuck!”

“Are you alright?” Ryou asked.

“No, I’m not fucking alright! I’m in the fucking Shadow Realm!”

“Like I said, don’t panic!” Ryou said quickly. “We’ve been working on getting you out. Rishid, Ishizu and I.”

“Little miss tight-ass religious fanatic is working on getting _me_ out?” Bakura asked, finding it easier to focus on that bit of weirdness than to focus on the horror of his recent realization about where he and Malik really were.

“Ishizu knows Malik won’t leave without you, so yes.”

“Malik,” Bakura gasped as a realization hit him. “So if Malik isn’t in the apartment—the magical construct, apparently—right now...that means he’s outside in the Shadows? With the demons?”

Ryou swallowed audibly. “Yes, but...he’s always come back before, right? I don’t believe there’s any magic in the universe that could keep you _completely_ safe in the Shadow Realm, so maybe sometimes he gets pulled out into the Shadows—that must be where he is every time you're in the magical construct alone. But obviously your combined magic is strong enough that you’re always brought back to each other, to the safety of the construct.”

“Yeah...yeah, he’s always come back before,” Bakura repeated Ryou’s words to himself. Then he said, “Wait...so if I’m in the Shadow Realm, how the hell am I even talking to you?”

“I managed to come up with a spell to allow communication. But that’s really not important right now,” Ryou said. “Listen, Bakura. We’ve actually already nearly figured out a way to get you two out. It might be a little dangerous, but...you know what, that's not important right now either. But you two will need to cast a spell from in there first in order for it to work. Obviously, it was impossible to ask you to do it before, when we couldn’t even get you to realize where you were.”

Bakura suddenly felt a sharp tug on his leg and looked down.

“Uh...Ryou…” Bakura saw darkness swirling at his feet. “I think I’m about to be forced to hang up. I hope to the gods I can call you back later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's what's going on! I hope it was worth the wait to find out! If there are some things still don't make sense, know that more about their situation and exactly how it all works will be explained in future chapters. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you think! Thanks to everyone who's still reading!


	23. Chapter 23

Bakura barely blinked, and then he was in the darkness again, a large demon pacing back and forth in front of him.

“So,” the demon hissed, its long tongue lolling out of its mouth, “you now know where you truly are.”

Bakura swallowed. “The Shadows.”

“It is unfortunate,” the demon rasped. “So much work we did to keep you from finding out, and then one little lapse...we normally would have cut off your communication with that nuisance from the mortal world, you know. That conversation should have dissolved into interference moments after it started. But we were so busy playing with your lover, we didn't even notice that you'd made contact with the mortal. Your...partner, do you call him?...is quite distracting. His cries are delicious.”

Bakura stared, eyes wide, breathing heavy. He felt unable to move or speak, or even think. He could feel himself shaking.

“Oh, save the drama.” The demon flicked its barbed tail dismissively. “By now you are aware we will be forced to return him to you soon, only a bit worse for wear. Your damn power...that light magic...but trust me, we will find a way to break it soon, and then you shall both be ours.”

Bakura actually settled down at that, at the reminder that Malik would be alright and would be back with him soon. He knew demons didn't always tell the truth, but Ryou had said the same thing. And Malik _had_ always come back before.

He realized he needed to get himself together, needed to keep his wits about him now that he was face to face with a demon. He thought back to how he'd handled his battles when he'd been fighting for his vengeance, tried to capture that feeling again, and an eerie sense of calm spread throughout him. “You can't break our power,” he said, voice steady and confident. “It comes from our inherent magical abilities, our kas—you can't take that away. It's impossible.”

“Is that what you think?” The demon scoffed. “You believe you or he has some form of especially great magical ability, inherent within your soul? You believe your kas are stronger than the ka of any other random human? So arrogant.”

“We've proven that it's true. You just admitted you have to return him to me.” Bakura smirked. “Does it make you feel weak? To know our magical abilities surpass yours?”

The demon roared, showing its teeth. “You conceited little vermin. That is not why we must return him.”

“Enlighten me, then.” Bakura crossed his arms. Bakura wasn't sure why the demon wanted to talk instead of torture him like usual, but he wasn't going to complain. Maybe he could get some useful information out of it.

“I've told you before. Do you not remember?” The demon continued to pace in front of him. “Oh, of course you don't. Your fragile minds, so weak and bendable...I could make you forget this meeting as well, if I so chose.”

“And will you?”

The demon huffed. “There is little point. Unfortunately, I cannot erase the knowledge you now possess that you are in the Shadows. You were inside the unbreached...apartment, you call it?...when you gained that knowledge. Out here in the Shadows, I can force you to forget or remember anything I like...but in there…if we are not there with you...” The demon shook its large, horned head. “True, even while inside we can bend your minds a bit to keep you from pondering too much on certain matters, to create certain subtle aversions in you...but we cannot erase your memory of events that happened within it.”

“And you claim our magic isn't so powerful,” Bakura chortled. “Our magic created that apartment, and look how hamstrung you are by it.”

“I did not say your magic was not powerful. I said it did not come about because of any particularly strong inherent magical ability either of you possess.”

“So, do you want to tell me where our magic comes from, or do you want to keep talking in circles? Maybe we should just get on with the usual torture.”

“Insolent,” the demon scoffed. “I shall tell you, because I want you to realize how precarious your position here is. You are correct that no being could take away inherent magical ability. If that were where your power came from, I would be worried. But your power is something far more fragile than that...something we can break if only given enough time. And we have forever.”

“Damn, were my evil speeches this boring back when I was stuck with Zorc?”

The demon bared its teeth at him, snarling, but did nothing further.

“You know,” Bakura said, “I don't even think you do have the power to make me forget things, even when I am out here in the Shadows. I remember you. We've met many times before, haven't we?”

“Oh, yes, I had forgotten...you are the more difficult one, are you not?” The demon flexed its claws. “So easy to bury memories for your lover, keep them locked inside his mind where he can't reach...but with you, we must merely scramble things a bit, and cause you to believe our meetings were but a dream.”

“But now I know they weren't just dreams. You can't take that knowledge from me either, can you?”

“It matters not.” The demon widened its jaws, as if yawning. Then, after a moment it said, sounding curious, “Why do you let him fuck you so much? Is it because you fear he will get bored of you otherwise?”

Bakura blinked at the strange non sequitur. “That was an...odd thing to say.”

“Forgive me. I am admittedly bored myself. You know, back before your lover came here, we had so much fun with you. We could rip out organs...break bones...but now…” The demon huffed out a sigh. “Now, a few scratches and bruises, a bit of psychological trauma...we can go no further. Not until we break your power, that is.”

“You can't even really hurt us.” Bakura gave the demon a smug look. “That's how great our power is.”

“Yes,” the demon growled. “The few things we can subject you to are getting a bit stale. So I thought I might make conversation.”

“Well, it's not a very interesting conversation. You know, maybe you should get into playing Duel Monsters. Zorc liked it, so you might too. Then we could talk about that.”

“Are you truly so confident as to mock me?” the demon asked with a snarl.

“Yep.” Bakura smirked.

“Well, you are foolish, then,” the demon said. “Your lover will tire of you eventually, you know. He won't always want you, and then...you shall be ours.”

Bakura creased his brow in thought. The demon was trying to say that Malik _wanting_  him was what was keeping him from belonging to the demons?

Suddenly, an image sprung into Bakura's mind as he was reminded of the time when the demon had been wearing Malik's face. He'd thought it was only a dream before, but now he knew the truth. And he remembered now what the demon had said.

_Your love can't protect the two of you from me forever! I'll find a way to break it!_

Bakura gasped in realization. “It's _not_ our inherent magical abilities! It's our—our, um, bond. Bond with each other.”

The demon roared in utter rage. “How? How have we been so hindered by this disgusting _thing_ between you two when you won't even name it, won’t even speak it aloud?”

Bakura really couldn't help laughing. But even as he descended into hysterics, his mind was racing. It made sense. He finally remembered the very end of the dream—memory—of Malik coming for him in the Shadow Realm. After they'd refused to abandon each other, promised to stay with each other even if it meant both of them being trapped in the Shadows...they had kissed...and that kiss had somehow transported them to their apartment.

Their bond, their partnership, their dedication to each other, their protection of each other...that was what was really protecting them from the Shadows.

And somehow, it was like he'd always known.

He laughed harder. _That_  was what the demon thought it could break?

“Laugh now,” roared the demon. “He _will_ discard you eventually. Does it not make you afraid? That your only protection from us is something as fleeting and changeable as a human emotion?”

“No,” Bakura said honestly. He'd never been worried about losing Malik's affections. He only worried about losing Malik to death, like his family, like everyone else he ever cared about or even knew when he was a child. But, he thought to himself sardonically, he supposed since he and Malik were both already dead and still together, he could really quit worrying about that as well.

“You truly are a fool,” the demon said. “Do you not realize that once he no longer loves you, you will belong to us forever?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakura said. “I know.”

“Is that why you let him use your holes so often?” The demon swung around to look at him with its sickly yellow eyes. “Do you assume as long as you allow him to make you his bitch, he will not get sick of you?”

“Wow. Your psychological torture game is really slipping, here,” Bakura said. “You're terrible at this.”

The demon snorted. “Just try it, then. Humor me. Try not allowing him to fuck you for a while, and see how quickly he loses interest.”

Bakura's eyebrows drew together in thought. Why did it seem like the demon was trying to get them to stop having sex? Why did it care?

Bakura gasped as he realized something.

Every time they made love...the bright light, the pulsing that looked like heka, the way the walls seemed to get more solid...it _was_  heka. It hadn't been his imagination. It was their magic. Their magic protecting them, strengthening the construct.

But then, it wasn't only when they had sex. He remembered seeing the heka sometimes when they were just close, sometimes when they talked, even sometimes when they bickered. But always when they had sex. It seemed to be the most reliable method of creating it.

But he didn't want the demon to know that he knew that. “Alright, fine. I'll stop having sex with him just to prove you wrong,” he lied.

“Then you'll see,” the demon said. “And you know, if you do sense he is tiring of you...you can always strike first. The offer I made to you when your lover first arrived remains open. Do you remember? Agree to leave him here, give him to me, and you can go free. I suggest you take advantage of this generous offer. There is no other way out for you.”

“Yeah, I'll keep that in mind,” Bakura said sarcastically.

Suddenly the demon’s paw darted out, talons extended. Bakura flinched back instinctively, but the claws didn’t touch his skin. Instead, a single claw sliced through the cord around his neck, sending the moon-shaped necklace Malik had made him flying, and in one quick motion the demon snatched it out of the air.

The demon dangled it in front of him, out of his reach. “Do you want it?”

“You can keep it.” Bakura shrugged. “It’s just a thing. He’ll make me another one.”

The demon hissed at him. “Your love is _revolting_.” The demon almost sounded like it was retching.

“Thanks?”

The demon snarled and whipped the necklace back towards him, but high over his head so that it flew far away out into the darkness, lost to the Shadows now.

Bakura watched it go with a slight sense of melancholy, but the feeling was quickly gone. It really was just a thing, and Malik would make him another, if he wanted one. Bakura crossed his arms over his chest and gave the demon a bored look. “And what did that accomplish?”

“Truly so confident,” the demon huffed. “You know, when you're mine again, it will be so much fun to say _I told you so_ while I'm ripping out your intestines. Drinking in your agony along with your blood, tasting the pain born of your knowledge that your lover has abandoned you to us...it will be ecstasy.” The demon’s body quivered as if in anticipation.

“Uh-huh. Look, can I go home now? I mean...back to the apartment. The construct. You're not allowed to keep either of us for too long, are you?”

“Very well. Our time is nearly up. We do have a bit more, but...I think I will send you back alone, and go find my associate who is currently playing with your lover, and join in for a bit before we must return him to you. You can wait for him, and think about what we are subjecting him to as you do.”

Bakura felt a spear of fear and pain pierce through him for the first time in a while. But he tried to remind himself that the demons couldn't _really_ hurt Malik. His magic, their magic, was protecting him.

But still...what he was going through right now…

The demon laughed at him, the sound raspy and mocking. “Oh, and one more thing. I wouldn't inform him of the truth of where you really are. You remember our interference with your mortal friend in the living realm...well, we are unable to do any direct harm to him because he is not in the Shadows. But your lover is here...so if you were to try to tell him, we could do something to him that is far more unpleasant than what you call _static_  in order to stop that from happening.”

A split second later the demon had turned around, swinging its barbed tail in an arc and smacking him in the side of the head before he could react. He grunted in pain as he fell, his vision going black for a moment.

And then suddenly, Bakura was back in their apartment.

Alone.


	24. Chapter 24

He waited, and it seemed like forever. He knew the demon wanted this, for him to stew, to imagine what sorts of torments they were visiting on Malik as he sat there, unable to do anything, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking about it.

He hadn't even yet had time to process the fact that he was stuck in the damn Shadow Realm himself, and now he was alone, separated from his partner, worrying for him, with nothing to do other than think about all the implications of their awful situation.

Every single instance when Bakura had been alone in the apartment for any amount of time—which happened more days than not—the demons had been tormenting Malik, clawing and hitting him, taunting him and showing him disturbing visions, probably forcing him to relive his past.

And it was all because Malik had chosen to stay here in the Shadows. For Bakura.

And Bakura’s supposed nightmares involving the demons...they'd been real, he'd really been separated from Malik during those times, suffering in the claws of the demons.

And it would all keep happening, if they couldn't get out of here Malik would be taken from him and tortured again and again.

Malik was being tortured right now, suffering, and it seemed like he'd been gone so long.

As time went on, Bakura started to worry that Malik wouldn't come back, that the demons would keep him and hurt him forever and Bakura would be all alone.

It was impossible, of course. Their magic had to bring him back. The demon had even admitted it.

But they'd been separated for so long now, hours already.

Bakura's many injuries burned with pain, and he knew Malik was being given the same or worse, his body being lacerated and beaten.

And Malik didn't even know what was happening to him. He would be confused and scared and hurting as he relived his past traumas. And there was nothing Bakura could do about it.

Bakura could feel the tension and fear and pain and desolation growing larger and larger in his chest, and he knew he would soon be consumed by it.

Malik was gone, Malik was being hurt, the demons wanted nothing more than to keep them separated from each other and to harm them and they would never stop trying to take Malik away from him and hurt him and if Malik didn't come back...

But then Bakura's thoughts came to an abrupt halt as Malik finally came in the door. Malik slammed the door behind him, his eyebrows drawn together in anger above a black eye. There was a bright red slash across his cheek, dripping blood, and a ring of angry bruises around his neck. He had a troubled look in his eyes, one Bakura could remember having seen many times before when Malik came back to their apartment...to the construct.

Bakura's skin prickled with pain at the sight, at knowing what had just happened to Malik, what had happened to him so many times before.

Bakura ran to him and pounced on him. He couldn't help himself.

Malik stumbled back a bit in surprise, but Bakura just held on tighter, locking his arms around him.

“We have to have sex,” Bakura said. He gripped Malik's shoulders urgently. “Now. Right now.”

“Woah, woah,” Malik said. His arms reflexively came up around Bakura. “What's gotten into you?”

“Now, Malik.” Bakura clutched at him, almost clawing him, his eyes fervent. “Please. We need to. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” Malik said. “It's okay.”

Bakura was practically climbing him, trying to wrap his legs around him. Bakura knew he was panicking, knew he was scaring Malik. Normally he never panicked around Malik—at least, not for longer than the split second it took him to wake up from a nightmare and realize Malik was beside him.

But now…

“Fuck me,” Bakura said desperately. He looked at Malik with wild eyes, fingers digging into his shoulders. “Please. Now.”

“Shh, shh, it's alright,” Malik soothed, his hand beginning to rub at Bakura's back in comfort. “Anything you need, okay? Whatever you need.”

Bakura let out a heavy breath, dropping his head and closing his eyes. He still clung to Malik, squeezing too tightly, his body twitching with anxiety.

“Bakura?” Malik asked, voice gentle. “Can I put you down for just one second so I can take off my jacket and shoes?” Malik gazed at him with concern, his fingers coming up to stroke Bakura's face.

Bakura swallowed, nodding, and placed his feet back on the floor, forcing himself to back up a bit. Malik made quick work of kicking off his shoes and peeling off his jacket and tossing it on the coat rack. True to his word, as soon as he was done he came to pull Bakura close to him again.

Then Bakura grabbed onto his hand and choked out, “Bedroom. Now.”

He pulled Malik along, and Malik followed. Bakura hung onto his hand tightly, not willing to let go of his grip for a second when his back was turned, when Malik wasn't in his direct line of sight.

They made it to the bedroom and stripped their clothes off in a flash.

Malik didn't need to ask what position Bakura wanted, placing him on his back on the bed and then climbing on top of him. But he did ask, “Do you want it fast? Or slow?”

Bakura let out a breath he'd been holding, slipping his eyes shut and wrapping his arms around Malik's shoulders, his legs around his waist. “I don't think it makes a difference _how_  we do it. It will work either way.”

Malik gave him a confused look, but didn’t question him, instead temporarily disentangling their bodies so he could reach into the drawer by the bed for the lube. He coated his own cock, then Bakura's as well. Bakura watched him, knowing what Malik was doing, knowing Malik could sense that Bakura needed them to be as close as they could get. Malik was slicking Bakura's cock so that Bakura's erection could slide against Malik's stomach when they were pressed together as closely as possible and Bakura could come without being touched, without Malik having to separate their bodies even a bit to slip a hand between them.

It only took a few seconds, but Bakura was already impatient. “Please, inside me.”

Malik gave him a soft smile. “Fast, then.”

Bakura nodded and then Malik immediately slid inside, drawing a moan of relief from Bakura. Bakura locked his legs around Malik's middle again, tight, and before Malik could begin thrusting he reached down to still his hips.

“Now slow,” Bakura said.

“Okay,” Malik said quietly, gazing down at Bakura and keeping still.

Bakura looked into Malik's warm violet eyes for several seconds, but then made himself stop so he could look around the room.

The protective magic was there, sparkling golden over every surface, giving everything in the room a look of hyper-reality.

It had worked.

“Bakura?” Malik asked.

Bakura turned back to him, realizing Malik must think it odd for him to be staring off to the side at the wall instead of looking at him.

But he wanted to watch the magic. Needed to.

He put his hand on the back of Malik's head and pulled him down for a kiss. But after kissing him for several seconds, he broke off the kiss and guided Malik's head down so his face was buried in the crook of Bakura's neck, and Bakura looked over Malik's shoulder, staring at the gold and white lights darting across their painted ceiling.

Malik nuzzled his neck and then finally began rocking his hips, but slowly, as Bakura had asked.

Bakura watched the heka, watched as the magic pulsed around the walls, solidifying them. He kept a hand on the back of Malik's head, holding him where he was, while his other hand gently stroked along his back, gracing over his scars.

Bakura realized that now that he knew the heka was there, he could see it so much more clearly. It wasn’t just a general feeling of everything becoming more solid and real; he could actually see it happening, see the walls becoming thicker, the objects in the room becoming more substantial. And it wasn’t only that the lights glowed brighter, warming him from the inside out; he could feel the heat on his skin, see the tiny golden sparks of magic flitting across the ceiling, circling the painted sun and landing in the glowing stars, and when he turned his head he saw trails of iridescent gold flowing down the walls, illuminating the room.

Bakura didn't know how long he watched all the little golden sparkles, mesmerized.

“Bakura,” Malik panted. “Can I...can I speed up?”

“Not yet.” Bakura gazed at their magic. “Please.”

“Okay,” Malik sighed softly.

It went on, Malik rocking steadily between his legs, and Bakura continued to stare at the magic. His hips twitched with his building need, but he wouldn't let himself thrust. He wanted this to last as long as possible, to keep the magic flowing from them for as long as they could.

The pain from Bakura's earlier injuries—the scratches on his back, the welt on his leg, the lump on his head—was completely gone now, and he didn't think the wounds were there any longer. He concentrated on Malik's injuries and imagined them disappearing as he completely opened himself to the comforting smolder of the heka, letting go and allowing its heat to consume him.

He felt the warmth of their magic as it cascaded around them, and he moaned, becoming lost in the feeling of Malik inside him, joined with him, filling him, the weight of Malik's body on top of him, their skin touching in as many places as possible, the two as close as they could possibly be as the radiant magic they were creating enveloped them and protected them.

Malik was moving so slowly, but he was hitting the right spot every time, his stomach creating friction against Bakura's slick erection each time he moved.

More time passed, and eventually Bakura couldn't ignore how his erection was throbbing, becoming desperate for release. But still he stayed still, his only movement the shivers that came over his body every time Malik swayed his hips. He couldn't stand to end the spell they were casting together.

“Bakura,” Malik gasped. “I need...need to go faster…”

Bakura's hips bucked against his will at Malik's words. “Please...please not yet…”

Malik let out a low groan of frustration, but he kept the pace sedate.

Bakura continued to gaze at the magic, his fingers clutching in Malik's hair, beginning to pull at it a little, his other hand having to move to Malik's lower back so he could dig his fingernails in, every one of his muscles tensed with his burning desire as he used all of his willpower to keep his hips still.

He could feel every inch of Malik's body trembling with his obvious need. Bakura was quivering himself, needing to move more than he'd ever needed anything...except to keep seeing the magic they were creating.

It was beautiful, and he wanted to watch it forever.

Finally, Malik spoke again. “Bakura...gods, please…” he breathed. “Please, please let me go faster…”

“Not yet,” Bakura whispered, voice strained. “Please, just a little longer.”

Malik let out a helpless-sounding moan, his body wracked with shudders. Bakura could feel Malik’s erection pulse inside him, desperate.

The magic seemed to be getting brighter all the time. Bakura continued to watch.

His erection ached, so close to the brink and so hard it was almost painful. He could feel his insides spasming involuntarily, and heard the desperate whimpers this produced in Malik.

Bakura moaned, low and needy, and Malik echoed him, gripping onto him so tightly it almost hurt.

“Please, please, please, Bakura,” Malik begged. “Please, I need, I need...please let me come inside you.”

Bakura moaned again, louder now. He couldn't wait any more. Every bit of him was begging for completion. And he couldn't deny to Malik what Malik clearly needed so badly any longer.

Bakura took one last look at the brightness of the heka surrounding them, and then pulled Malik's head up so he could look at him. He saw a white flash of light as their eyes met.

“Yes,” Bakura sighed. “Come. Come with me now.”

Malik let out a loud groan of utter relief as he dropped his head down to join his lips with Bakura's, and at the same time suddenly pounded into him as hard as he could.

Bakura moaned with abandon, letting Malik swallow the sound as he kissed him, and Malik moaned into his mouth in return. Bakura finally let his own hips move, keeping time with the quick and hard pace Malik was now setting.

It was mere seconds before Bakura exploded in orgasm, and Malik had to break their kiss to scream as he came himself.

Their climax went on, and they began kissing again, riding out the high together, lost in their mutual pleasure.

Finally they wound down, and Malik went limp on top of him.

Bakura drew his arms around Malik's shoulders, squeezing him tightly both there and where his legs still rested over Malik's hips.

“Stay inside,” Bakura whispered. “Just for a little while.”

“Okay,” Malik sighed.

He kissed Malik a little more, both of them sighing in satisfaction. But soon Malik dropped his head back down onto Bakura's shoulder, and a short time later, his breathing evened out and Bakura could tell he was asleep.

Bakura finally rolled out from under Malik, disengaging their interlocked bodies, but he quickly pulled Malik close again afterwards, cuddling into his side.

He wanted to join Malik in sleep. He was dizzy from the magic, almost drunk, and a feeling of peaceful calmness was suffused throughout his body. But he made himself stay awake. He needed to see how long the heka would last.

So he watched it, gazed at it and let it warm and comfort him for more than three hours as it slowly faded and then, finally, began to dissipate.

Once it was gone, he shook Malik awake.

“I can't sleep,” Bakura said.

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

Bakura opened his mouth. He wanted to tell Malik. Tell him the truth about where they really were.

But the warning from the demon echoed in his mind and he snapped his mouth shut again. It had said it would hurt Malik if he tried to tell him. Bakura knew he’d eventually have to figure out a way to get Malik to understand what was really happening. Maybe he could ask him leading questions, like Ryou had with him, and help him to figure it out himself?

He’d have to think about how exactly to do that. But at the moment, he didn’t want to consider the problem.

So instead he said, “Um, can we...can we have sex again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm out of town visiting relatives for a couple weeks, but I wrote the chapters all out of order and the next two chapters following this one have already been written for months, so I should still be able to post regularly.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	25. Chapter 25

Malik was gone again.

Bakura had tried to stay awake, but he’d just been so tired after that second time, completely exhausted not just from the sex but from everything else that had happened that day—waking up in the middle of the night to find Malik gone and finally realizing how wrong that was, the conversation with Ryou when he'd found out the awful truth, and then the meeting with the demon, followed by being stuck alone in the apartment while knowing Malik was being tortured and unable to do anything about it. So finally, against his own will, he’d eventually fallen asleep in Malik’s arms with the comforting heka bouncing around the room. But the heka must have dissipated sometime in the night, because in the morning, Bakura had woken up to an empty apartment.

He realized that if it were any other day, he’d simply think Malik was at work. But now he knew the truth.

He tried to look on the bright side. He still needed to finish his conversation with Ryou, and he knew it wouldn’t be possible to do that if Malik were here—not without the static cutting off everything Ryou tried to say, not without something worse happening, happening to Malik, if Bakura talked about the truth to Ryou in front of Malik.

Malik would be back soon, like he always was, and at worst he’d be a little bruised up, and hopefully by the time Malik walked in the door Bakura would be finished talking to Ryou.

And the reason he needed to talk to Ryou was because Ryou was the one who was going to get them the hell out of here.

So Bakura took a deep breath to steel himself, then picked up his phone and dialed Ryou. Ryou answered on the first ring.

“Ryou?”

“Oh, thank the gods. I was so worried. I’ve been calling and calling—“

“The phone never rang,” Bakura said.

“Are you okay, though?” Ryou asked.

“As much as I can be under the circumstances, I suppose.”

“That's good,” Ryou said. “So...what’s happened since the last time we talked?”

“Well, first, a demon grabbed me and cut off our phone call,” Bakura said.

“So you still remember where you are? Everything that’s happened?”

“Unfortunately for me, yes.” Bakura gave a bitter laugh. “The demon that grabbed me...it admitted to me where we really are. It said it doesn’t have the power to erase the knowledge now that I have it.”

“Well, that's good anyways,” Ryou said. “So is Malik there with you now?”

“No,” Bakura sighed. “He came back since I last talked to you but he’s...gone again.”

“Was he alright when he came back, though?”

“A little banged up, but...basically.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” Ryou said. “So did you tell him? Does he know where you really are now?”

“No,” Bakura admitted. “Malik still doesn’t know.”

“What? Why haven’t you told him?” Ryou asked.

“I can't tell him. The demon said it would...do things to prevent it if I tried to tell him. Worse things than the static. Things that would really hurt him.”

“I don’t think it can, Bakura,” Ryou said. “If they were capable of seriously hurting either of you, they would have done it long ago. So what's the worst they could do if you tried to tell him? Nothing more than what they're already doing anyways.”

“I suppose so…” Bakura said slowly as he realized Ryou was right. “But still, if they just snatch him every time I try to tell him—”

“I think if they were able to take him any more often than they do now, they'd already be doing that,” Ryou reasoned. “But they can't keep you permanently separated. So there must be a lot of times when they're unable to take either of you. Could you possibly figure out when one of those times is and just tell him then?”

“ _Oh_.” Bakura blinked. That made sense. Now that Ryou had said it, he saw that he should have figured it out himself. But he hadn't been thinking straight ever since learning the terrible truth about where they really were. Or maybe it was just that the threat of hurting Malik had short circuited the part of his brain capable of rational thought. “Yeah, that should actually be easy enough.” He could just create some heka with Malik and tell him while the protective spell was still active. Bakura barked out a little laugh at himself for not thinking of that on his own. “I guess you can't trust what a demon says to you.”

“It just lied to you because it wants to prevent you from telling him the truth. Because once both of you know, we can seriously work on getting you out,” Ryou said. “And that's why it’s imperative that you tell him.”

“Yeah, okay, I get it. I'll think of how to break it to him when he gets back.” Bakura paused. “So...what is this plan to get us out?”

“Okay, well, it has to do with your combined magic—I mentioned that to you before,” Ryou said. “I think the fact that you're both powerful magic users with strong kas in close proximity to each other is what has allowed you to create the protection from the Shadows, so if we can use that—”

“That's not why,” Bakura cut him off without thinking.

“Huh?”

“It's not because we're both powerful magic users. That's not why the magic is protecting us.”

“What do you mean? How do you know?” Ryou asked.

“I figured it out based on...well, a lot of things,” Bakura said. “Plus, the demon admitted it to me.”

“We’ve established that demons lie, Bakura.”

“Yeah, but I’m totally sure about this,” Bakura said. “The fact that the demon said so isn’t the only way I know.”

“Okay…” Ryou said slowly. “So why is the magic protecting you?”

“It's...not important,” Bakura said. He suddenly realized he really did not want to tell Ryou the actual reason. “I don’t know why I even brought it up. Just...know that you don’t know everything about what’s going on, okay? I can figure some things out on my own without your help.”

“It really, really is important, Bakura,” Ryou said, sounding uncharacteristically irritable. “We definitely need to know everything about the magic protecting you in order to get you guys out of there.”

“Who is we?”

“Rishid, Ishizu and I. I told you we've been working to get you out.”

“Oh, no. We are not telling this to Ishizu!” Bakura exclaimed.

Ryou sighed. “Yes, fine. You and Malik can just stay in the Shadow Realm for the rest of eternity since you don't feel like telling us.”

Bakura couldn't help laughing a little. Ryou wasn't usually sarcastic. This whole situation must have been really stressing him out.

“Oh, you think it's funny?” Ryou said. “Bakura...I hate to point this out, but...didn't you say Malik isn't there with you right now? You...do realize what's happening to him.”

Bakura swallowed, suddenly feeling sick. “Okay. Damn. That was low.”

“I'm sorry. I just need you tell me so we can get you both out of there. And then demons won't be able to take either of you anymore. Alright?” Ryou said.

Bakura let out a shaky breath. “Gods, right now Malik is…”

“I didn't mean to upset you,” Ryou said, sounding apologetic. “As I said earlier...they're not capable of seriously hurting either of you. Malik will be fine. But...please just tell me. I really need to know so we can properly create the spell we’ll use to get you two out of there. It’s not the kind of thing we want to mess up due to not having accurate information.”

“Ugh, fine,” Bakura said, realizing he had no choice. “Okay, it's...it's our…” He paused and took a breath before trying again. “The magic that keeps Malik and I safe was created because of our...um...you know...for each other. Our bond. Our bond with each other.”

“Oh,” Ryou said softly. “Oh, Bakura.”

“Shut up!” Bakura cried.

“It does make sense, though, that your love for each other would be protecting you. Love and friendship can create powerful magic,” Ryou said, sounding thoughtful. “But Bakura...do you know this for sure, or are you just guessing? You know you can’t trust a demon. It's really important that we know for certain.”

“I know,” Bakura said. “After I realized, I...tested it.”

“How did you test it?”

“Okay, _that_  I'm not telling you,” Bakura spat.

“Bakura, look, can we please just not argue about this?” Ryou said helplessly. “It's really, really important. Just tell me so we can get you two out of there.”

“You know what's creating the magic!” Bakura yelled. “Why do you need to know how I tested it?”

“Well, first of all, I need to know if it was a valid test,” Ryou said. “We can't just guess about what's creating the protective magic and why.”

“It was valid,” Bakura insisted. “I literally saw the magic we created. And I saw the apartment—the construct—becoming more solid with the magic.”

“Okay, good,” Ryou said. “So then, I need to know exactly how you created the magic. That's important as far as what you two will need to do to get out of there. We need to craft a spell for you two, so we need all the information we can get about exactly how the magic is created.”

“Oh, gods,” Bakura moaned, sounding pained.

“Bakura, _please_ ,” Ryou said. “You do want us to get you two out of there, don't you?”

There was silence for a moment. Then, finally, Bakura worked up his nerve. “We fucked, alright!” Bakura yelled, his face heating. “It always happens when we have sex, and, and sometimes in a few other situations—like when we kiss or talk—but not as reliably, so...whatever! That's it!”

“So, when you make love...” Ryou said. “Oh, that’s sweet.”

“Shut up! Don’t say that! I hate you!” Bakura cried.

“Okay, okay,” Ryou said, sounding more businesslike now. “This is helpful information.”

“It damn well better be,” Bakura growled.

“I'll need some time to work out exactly what you two need to do to get out of there. It shouldn't take long,” Ryou said. “In the meantime, just try to keep the magic strong as often as you can. That should help prevent either of you being taken as often.”

“You're telling me we should fuck a lot,” Bakura said, deadpan.

“Uh…” Ryou stumbled. “I guess.”

“Oh, no, you want to advise me on my sex life, so just go ahead, let's talk about it!” Bakura said with overblown enthusiasm.

“Trust me, Bakura, I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to discuss what you and Malik do in bed,” Ryou said. “I told you, I only needed to know how the magic was created so we can figure out exactly how to create the spell you two will need to do to get you guys back here.”

“Oh, really? You have no desire to discuss it?” Bakura shot back. “So now _you're_  uncomfortable hearing about how often Malik and I fuck?”

“Bakura, please…”

“No, really, this seems important. It's vital to preventing either of us being taken by the demons, you said,” Bakura pointed out. “So, then, you’re saying we should fuck more often than we already do?”

“Yes, try to do it as much as you can,” Ryou said, sighing in resignation.

“Well, we already do it a lot. He fucks me at least once every day or two, so—“

“I really don’t need the details, Bakura,” Ryou cut him off.

“I don’t know exactly how long I’ve been here, but you were already almost 18 by the time of the final game. So you must be an adult by now. Are you really that innocent about sex? Can’t even talk about it?” A wicked smile grew on Bakura's face as he thought of getting Ryou back for embarrassing him by making him admit...that. “What, have you still not done it?” Bakura teased.

“It’s not that,” Ryou said. “I imagine I’ve done far more things than you have. It’s just—“

“Wait, what?”

“Bakura, I shared head space with you long enough to know you’re incredibly vanilla,” Ryou said gently.

“ _What_!”

“The point is, you’re like a brother to me.”

“What do you _mean_ I’m _vanilla_?” Bakura yelled.

Ryou ignored the question and said, “You've known me since I was a child. I basically grew up with you. You even practically look like my twin.”

“Shows what you know!” Bakura said. “I’m actually in my true form in this place—you know, the way I looked in ancient Egypt.”

“Regardless,” Ryou said. “I see you as close family. I don’t want to think about you having sex any more than I want to think about whatever sex life my father may or may not have. It’s just gross.”

“Well, get over it,” Bakura snapped. “This is kind of important. I’m trying to figure out a way to keep my partner from being tortured by a demon, if you didn’t remember.”

“You know I sympathize, Bakura. I’ve been trying to get you both out of there for so long,” Ryou said. “But like I said, just make love more often. I can’t fathom why you’d need to discuss it with me.”

“Well as I was trying to tell you before you so rudely interrupted with your squeamishness, we already do it a lot,” Bakura said. His voice took on a slightly sinister tone as he continued, “And Malik probably wouldn’t mind doing it more, except he doesn’t like leaving me sore too often, so I don’t think he’d be willing to do it more than we do now, since he’s always worried that if he fucks me more than once a day on a regular basis it’ll rip up my asshole and—“

“Oh my gods,” Ryou cut in. “Oh my gods, I do not need to hear this.”

For a moment, Bakura knew he must have sounded like he was trying to hold back laughter. But he managed to sound quite serious when he said, “It’s kind of important, Ryou. I need you to help me figure out how to get him to have sex with me more often, so we don’t get kidnapped by demons so much. Demons, Ryou.”

“Yes, I understand, but I’m pretty sure you can figure that out on your own, Bakura,” Ryou said, seeming like he was trying to sound patient.

“So, you won’t help me?” Bakura asked, putting on his most pathetic voice. “Because, you know, I do fuck Malik occasionally, but he doesn’t like bottoming very often, and like I said, if I bottom more than once every day or two I get kind of sore, and I’d be fine with it, but Malik has always been pretty protective of me, so I don’t really see how you expect me to figure out on my own how I can get us to fuck more often than we already do when my ass—“

“Oh my Ra, Bakura, I seriously don’t think it matters what _type_ of sex you have!” Ryou cut in sharply. “Just...make love in a way that doesn’t involve your...anus.” Ryou made a sound of disgust. “Gods, I can’t believe you’re making me talk about this. I really don’t see why you’d need me to help you figure that out.”

“What do you mean, Ryou?” Bakura asked with mock innocence. “What type of sex are you saying we should have?”

“You darn well know what I’m talking about. Now you’re just messing with me.”

“No, Ryou, I’m so _vanilla_ , I don’t think I’m sure exactly what it is you’re referring to.”

Ryou let out a weary-sounding sigh. “I’m sure you’re aware of what oral sex is, Bakura.”

“Oh, oral sex? You mean like when Malik takes my cock and sticks it down his throat and—"

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Ryou cried. “Bakura, you are trapped in the _Shadow Realm_. Do you not think we have more important things to discuss? We do not have time for you to waste on trying to force me think about your—ugh—ripped up anus and for you to amuse yourself by making me talk about you putting your penis in Malik’s mouth!”

Bakura was laughing hysterically by the time Ryou had finished talking. When he finally got ahold of himself, he said, “I _am_  in the Shadow Realm. And my partner happens to temporarily missing right now. So I’d think you’d be a little more sympathetic about me attempting to take some joy where I can get it.”

Ryou sighed. “Fine. Can we just move on?”

“Alright, alright,” Bakura conceded. “But...just to be clear...you are saying that Malik should give me more blow jobs.”

“Oh my gods,” Ryou whispered. “Yes, I am saying Malik should give you more blow jobs. And you should give him more blow jobs. Alright? Now I swear to Bastet, if you do not change the subject right now I am going to hang up this phone and leave you both in the Shadow Realm forever!”

A minute later, Bakura had finally finished laughing. He was met by stony silence from Ryou. Finally, Ryou said, “Are you through? Can we get back on track?”

“You’re no fun,” Bakura pouted. “You’ve never been any fun.”

“That’s because I’m the one who does all the work. Like all the work I’m doing right now trying to get you two _out of there_.”

“Fine, fine,” Bakura said.

“Good.”

“Alright, what else do we need to discuss?” Bakura asked.

“Well...I guess there's not actually much that would be vital to inform you of right now. I suppose it would be easier to wait until we have the plan finalized, and Malik is aware of what's going on, and then I can just tell you both at the same time,” Ryou said. “I’ll work on the spell with Rishid and Ishizu. It really shouldn’t take more than a couple weeks to get it finished. We already have most of it worked out. I just need to let them know the new information about your protective magic I got from you today, and we can make a few tweaks to the spell.”

Bakura groaned as he thought about Ryou telling Malik’s siblings where their protective magic came from.

“So, make sure you tell Malik that you're in the Shadow Realm,” Ryou continued. “Once he knows, and we’ve got the spell finished, we can hopefully get you two out of there.”

“ _Hopefully_. Great,” Bakura sighed.

“Everything will work out,” Ryou assured him. “And I’m sure Malik will be back soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still out of town, but luckily this chapter has already been basically done for a few months! Next chapter has been basically done for months too, but once I get home I'll have to start working on the later chapters! I'm thinking this story will end up being somewhere around 30 chapters (not as long as it seems since a lot of the chapters are short.)
> 
> Anyways thanks again to everyone still reading!


	26. Chapter 26

Bakura leaned against the couch cushion, Malik resting between his legs, lying back on his chest with Bakura’s arms draped around his shoulders.

Bakura still hadn’t told Malik about the disturbing truth he’d first learned from Ryou the previous day. Malik had only gotten home—or rather, back to the fucking _construct,_  Bakura internally corrected himself—ten or fifteen minutes ago.

Of course, he’d been in a terrible mood when he’d walked in the door. The fact that Malik was always in a bad mood when he got back made sense now—anyone would be if they had just been tortured by demons.

But Bakura had gotten him calmed down, and managed to convince him to come cuddle on the couch.

“Oh, Malik, I wanted to tell you,” Bakura started. “I talked to Ryou earlier today.”

“Huh? Ryou? When did you talk to him?”

“On the phone, I mean.”

Malik looked confused. “When did you have time to do that?”

Of course. Malik didn’t remember being gone. He didn’t know Bakura had been alone in the apartment. Bakura squeezed him a little tighter, trying not to think about what Malik must have been going through at the time.

Suddenly, he wanted to put off telling Malik the truth. Malik had just been through a lot, and Bakura hadn’t even had time to think of a good way to break the news to him.

Besides, while he didn't think it would be possible for the demons to take Malik again right away after they had just been forced to return him, it really would be safest if they created some heka together before Bakura told Malik that they were actually in the Shadow Realm.

“Yes, well, anyways,” Bakura said, avoiding answering Malik’s question. Instead he said, “He said he thinks you need to give me more blow jobs.”

Malik let out a little laugh and gave Bakura a skeptical look. “He did not.”

“He definitely did.” Bakura snickered. “Call him and ask him if you don’t believe me.”

“You know what? I'm going to call your bluff. I will call him,” Malik said, starting to get up and reach for the phone.

“You absolutely should. Put him on speaker.”

Malik dialed the number and, when Ryou answered, did as Bakura said and put him on speaker.

“Hey, Ryou. It’s me.”

“Oh, hi! It’s really good to hear from you. I was...a bit worried,” Ryou’s voice came from the speaker.

“Why?” asked Malik.

“Oh, nothing. I just tend to worry,” Ryou said lightly. “You’re doing alright, though?”

“Yeah,” Malik answered.

“I’m here too, Ryou,” Bakura said. “You’re on speaker.”

“Oh! Both of you?” Ryou sounded excited. “So, do you...have something to tell me? I mean, can I help? Malik, did Bakura figure out how tell you that you’re in—" Ryou was cut off by a loud blast of static.

“Stupid reception,” Malik said.

“Damn it,” Ryou said, as if to himself. “Why are you calling, then?”

“Ask him. Ask him,” Bakura said.

“Ask me what?”

“Ryou, did you—" Malik had to pause to laugh a bit. “I’m really sorry, but did you...tell Bakura that I need to give him more blow jobs?”

“This is not happening,” Ryou said under his breath.

“Remember how _serious_ this is, Ryou,” Bakura put in. “So tell the truth.”

Ryou let out a loud, pained sigh. “Yes, Malik. I told Bakura that. You do, in fact, need to give him more blow jobs.” Ryou groaned and lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “I swear, Bakura, I’d kill you if you weren’t already—”

The static cut Ryou off again, but Bakura was laughing so hard he barely noticed it.

“I hate you sometimes, Bakura,” Ryou moaned.

“Uh, Ryou, did you lose a bet with Bakura or something?” Malik asked.

“No, Malik,” Ryou sighed.

“So you’re actually serious?” asked Malik.

“Yes. I really, seriously think that you need to give Bakura more blow jobs, and Bakura also needs to give you more blow jobs. It’s actually really important, so just do it, alright?” Ryou made a growling sound and lowered his voice again. “I hate you, Bakura! I hate you!”

Bakura was rolling on the floor laughing. Malik was giggling, but his face was scrunched up in confusion at the same time.

“What exactly is going on?” Malik asked.

“Nothing,” Ryou said, sounding like he was talking through gritted teeth. “Just...have oral sex with each other more often! I’m really serious! Now I have to go! Goodbye!”

Malik and Bakura heard a slamming sound come through the speakers, though Bakura was fairly sure Ryou was using a magically enhanced phone and therefore slamming the phone down would not, in fact, help with disconnecting the call. But a moment later, the call did cut off.

Bakura laughed until he couldn’t breathe, and Malik just stared at him in confusion, but continued to giggle himself. When Bakura finally got ahold of himself, he stood up and held his palms out to Malik and said, “Well, you heard him.”

“You know what?” Malik shrugged. “He also said you should give me more blow jobs, so I’m not even going to question it.”

With that, they both laughed and raced off to the bedroom. Clothes were shed, and soon Bakura was on his back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, watching the golden heka appear as Malik slid him into his mouth. Bakura watched the glowing magic the entire time, dizzily observing how the sparkling gold lights bounced around the room, solidifying the walls and making everything shine with a bright, warm glow.

The lights flashed even brighter when his pleasure reached a crescendo and his orgasm overtook him. Once he was finished, he gave Malik his turn. He closed his eyes as he took Malik in, but he could still feel the heat of the light magic on his skin, and see the brightness even through his eyelids. When he could tell Malik was close, he opened his eyes and looked up at him, and he saw a second intense flash of light as Malik exploded in his mouth.

Afterwards, he came up to rest his head on Malik’s shoulder, and Malik drew his arms around him.

“Seriously, though,” Malik said after several minutes of quiet cuddling, “what was that bizarre phone call with Ryou all about?”

Bakura started to open his mouth. He wanted to tell Malik the truth.

But he still hadn’t had time to think of the best way to break it to him. And he didn’t want to consider the problem at the moment. He was feeling calm and content, the light heka from their union still shimmering in the air, a literal afterglow that warmed him and made him feel protected and safe, and which prevented him from wanting to do anything other than snuggle up with Malik and relax in his arms among the luminous sparks.

But Malik was staring at him, expecting an answer.

“Ryou called me _vanilla_ ,” he finally said. It was the only thing that had come to mind.

“Wait, _what_?” Malik laughed.

“Apparently, he’s more _experienced_  than me,” Bakura said with bitterness in his voice.

“Um. Wow,” Malik said. “Now I just have _more_ questions.”

“Such as?” Bakura asked, stalling for time.

“Alright, first of all...how on earth does he even know that? How would he know anything about what you like in bed?”

“We shared a mind link, remember?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“I mean, it’s not like he knows details,” Bakura said defensively. “I didn’t share my mind with him the way I did with you when you and I mind linked. But you know, he could get general impressions, and we shared head space for a really long time, so…”

Bakura trailed off and Malik nodded. “Alright, second question,” Malik said. “How in the fuck did you and Ryou even end up discussing your sex lives with each other today in the first place?”

Bakura stared at him blankly. “Um…”

“I mean,” Malik said quickly, “I’m not saying you _can’t_ discuss your sex life with your friend if you want to. I just think it’s _weird_  that you did. It just doesn’t seem like the type of thing you two would ever want to talk about with each other.”

“Trust me, it’s really, really not,” Bakura said, pulling a face as he did. “The whole conversation was...odd. And unpleasant.”

“I’ll bet.” Malik blinked. “Okay, whatever. Third question: how did Ryou calling you vanilla result in him telling me on the phone to give you more blow jobs? How are those things even connected?”

“Well…” Bakura was frantically trying to come up with an answer that wasn’t technically a lie. Somehow, he’d never been able to bring himself to lie to Malik about anything, even from the very beginning when he’d told him way too much about his plans and his past during their first ever conversation. “Well, I was pretty mad at him for calling me vanilla and...some other things he said. So, I was trying to get him back.”

“So you made him promise to say embarrassing things on the phone to me to make it up to you?”

“Hey, wait a minute!” Bakura suddenly said. “What did you mean by it when you said, ‘How does Ryou _know_ that’? How does he _know_ that I’m vanilla? You’re saying he's right? Do _you_  think I’m vanilla?”

“Oh, _Bakura_ ,” Malik said with mock sympathy in his voice, giving him an exaggerated look of pity. Bakura scowled at him, and Malik laughed and kissed Bakura on his nose. Bakura snorted and turned away, a sour look on his face.

“Don’t worry,” Malik said, snuggling closer to him. “I like it.”

“Shut up.”

“I do, though.”

Bakura looked back at him hesitantly. “Really?”

“Of course,” Malik said. “I don't need any weird stuff to make being with you exciting.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.”

“I'd rather have my skin on yours than on an outfit or a toy,” Malik said. “And I'm definitely not interested in either of us being aggressive.”

Bakura made a _hmph_  sound and turned away again.

Malik sighed, sounding thoughtful, and reached out to card his fingers through Bakura's hair. “You know, I think I’ve already had way more than enough violence for a lifetime...or many lifetimes. The things done to me...the things I did to other people...I’m just done with it all. After all that, I don't need it in bed as well. Isn’t that how you feel, too?”

“Yeah, I guess…but...”

Malik tightened his arms around him. “I don’t want to treat you like one of my mind slaves. I don’t want to put you in chains like you were in Egypt. I don’t want to feel trapped again myself, like I did in the tomb. I don’t want any more scars, and I don’t want to give them to anyone else. I don’t want to slap you around like I did to everyone else, even…” He choked on his words a bit. “...even my brother…”

Bakura turned back to him at that last, sympathy written on his face. “Malik…”

Malik swallowed thickly, then after a moment he got a hold of himself and gave Bakura a wistful smile, twisting a lock of Bakura’s hair around his finger. “When I first met you...it was… _nice_ to have one person I never tried to hurt. Someone who never tried to hurt me. Someone I could work with as an equal instead of trying to control like one of my minions. And we could insult and threaten each other all day, but neither of us ever tried to lay a hand on the other, even back then, remember? I'd never had that with anyone, but then I found you. You were different. We were different. Even from the very start, back when we were both so fucked up...we always protected each other.”

“Yeah,” Bakura said quietly. He looked down, a blush forming on his cheeks.

Malik put his fingers under Bakura’s chin and tilted his face up to look him in the eyes. “I don’t want to be rough with you,” Malik whispered.

“Oh-okay,” Bakura breathed, and let Malik pull him in for a tender kiss.

“I always want to be gentle with you,” Malik whispered against his lips. “And for you to be gentle with me. Isn't that what you want, too?”

“Yes,” Bakura sighed.

Bakura let the kissing go on for a few more moments, but then he broke the contact and flipped over, though he pulled Malik close to spoon up behind him. “Alright, alright,” Bakura said, voice gruff. “I didn’t mean for it to get all...serious.”

Malik laughed. “Yeah.” After a pause, he said, “Anyways, you’re not _totally_  vanilla. You do technically have a kink.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well...you like it when I hold you down and tickle you.”

“I do not!” Bakura cried.

“Yeah, it doesn’t make you hard as hell, or anything.” Malik snickered.

“It doesn’t! I don’t like that!” Bakura yelled, his face heating.

“Wow, make up your mind. First you don’t want to be vanilla, and now you don’t want to have a kink?”

“Not a _cute_  one!”

“It _is_ cute,” Malik said, chuckling. Bakura turned to give him a death glare.

“Hey, you said it, not me,” Malik pointed out, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Bakura sighed. “Gods. Fuck this entire day. How do I keep getting myself into these conversations?” Malik laughed, and Bakura thought to himself that if it were possible to die of being exposed to too much embarrassment in single day, he would be…but he cut off the thought as he realized he was, in fact, already dead. And so was Malik. And Malik didn’t even know.

Bakura closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to try to calm himself.

“I don’t think our day was _that_  bad,” Malik said. “Do you really want to complain about a day when you got a blow job?”

Bakura opened his eyes, and looked around the room. The light heka still shone all around them, and he focused on it, trying to get back his calm from earlier. “No, I guess not,” Bakura conceded. “But...I need sleep.”

Malik yawned, as if the mere mention of sleep had reminded him he was tired.

Bakura closed his eyes again, trying to relax and avoid thinking about what was coming when he woke up. Because he would have to tell Malik soon. He wasn’t looking forward to the conversation, but he knew he couldn’t put it off much longer.

Maybe once Bakura was a little more rested, he would be able to think of the least traumatic way to tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol I promise the next chapter has actual plot!
> 
> I'm home now, which is good since after this we're reaching the end of the run of chapters that have already been done for months (though I got stuck in the polar vortex and had a total of six flights canceled due to weather before I finally made it home yesterday!)


	27. Chapter 27

Bakura set his internal alarm—something he'd learned to do long ago in ancient Egypt—for an hour. He woke up when he wanted, and glanced around, checking for the magic. It was still there, but just beginning to dissipate, which wasn't surprising. The sex had been fairly quick, so he hadn't expected the magic to last as long as it had after that time when they'd really drawn things out.

He didn't want to be awake; he was tired. But he couldn't let Malik get taken again. And he knew he would be if he allowed himself to sleep too long, to sleep past the time when their magic faded out. He thought the demons always came for them when they'd been asleep. Bakura's meetings with the demons always happened when he'd been sleeping, so that he believed they were nightmares, and Malik had only ever disappeared during times when Bakura was sleeping, so that he was gone when Bakura woke up.

He now remembered the demon telling him a couple times that it loved it when they slept—and now he understood why. Their protective magic was likely at its weakest when they'd been sleeping for a while, meaning they hadn't interacted with each other for hours, hadn't done anything recently that could strengthen the magic. And when their magic was at its weakest, the demons came to snatch them from each other.

So he had to wake up before the magic went away. Besides, he couldn't wait any longer to tell Malik the truth about where they really were. He'd already waited too long.

He figured he had at least a few more minutes before the magic was totally gone, and that he could use that time to think of how exactly to tell Malik the awful truth.

So he lay there thinking, idly running his fingers over Malik's sleeping body as he did.

When he saw the last of the golden magic wink out of existence, he shook Malik awake.

Malik looked at him groggily. “What's wrong? Nightmare?”

“I hate to wake you up, but...I need to talk to you about something. And it can't wait.”

Malik sat up, suddenly awake and alert. “What? What's the matter?”

“Have you ever noticed…” Bakura chewed on his lip, trying to remember how he'd decided to phrase what he wanted to say. “Have you ever seen the room suddenly get brighter? And then everything around us suddenly looks more solid? Almost like it’s more...real? And sometimes things sort of look like they’re pulsing? And it makes you feel really relaxed? And maybe it makes you kind of dizzy, but not in a bad way...or maybe it reminds you of heka?”

Malik gave him a surprised but confused look. “Actually...yeah. What—”

He broke off, shaking his head, seemingly unable to complete the question.

“And you know how it always happens when we—when we—” Bakura swallowed. He supposed if there was any time to use the word, it was now. He softened his voice, a tender look appearing in his eyes as he reached out to touch Malik's face. “When we make love.”

Malik sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes going wide for a moment before they lidded as he sighed, “O-oh.” He whispered Bakura’s name, sounding awestruck, and pulled him in to join their lips together.

The room got impossibly brighter as they shared tender kisses, everything thrumming with the magic.

“Do you feel it?” Bakura murmured against his lips. “Can you see it?”

“Yes,” Malik sighed. “Yes.”

Bakura let their kisses go on for several moments, but he reminded himself he couldn’t let himself get lost in it, as much as he wanted to. This was important. And he’d already put it off for too long, to the point that he was starting to worry it was the influence of the Shadows that was making him averse to telling Malik, the same way it had made him averse to attempting to leave the apartment and therefore finding out where he really was. So he had to fight against the aversion. This wouldn't be pleasant, but Malik needed to know, or they'd never get out of here.

So he pulled away, breaking the kiss and giving Malik as sheepish look of apology. “So, um...that’s not your imagination or anything. It’s actually real.”

Malik gave him a confused look. “What?”

“I really hate to ruin the moment, but I just found something out recently, and I need to explain it to you, and it’s not...well, it’s not what you’d call good.”

Malik began to look worried again. “What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing we can’t get through together, okay? But this is going to...um, be upsetting to hear.”

“Alright, you’re really starting to freak me out.”

“Malik...after the final game...do you remember how you found me? In the Shadow Realm?” Bakura asked, deciding to jump right in, to just get this over with.

“Yeah?” Malik said.

“But I mean...do you remember specifically what happened after you found me?”

Malik opened his mouth as if to respond, but then suddenly closed it, a confused look appearing on his face. “Actually...I…”

Bakura nodded. “I thought so.”

Malik was beginning to look frightened already. “What...why wouldn't I remember that?”

“Alright, does this sound familiar?” Bakura took a deep breath. “You were yelling for me, and then you heard me call out to you, and you found me being tortured by a demon, so you grabbed me and we started running and the demon was chasing us. But the spell you tried to use to get us out of the Shadows didn't work, so we started running again. But then the demon caught up to us and grabbed us. Then the demon told you that you didn't belong to the Shadows yet, that you could still get back to the mortal realm as long as you left me behind. But you refused, so the demon tried to make a deal with me. It said it would let me out of the Shadows if I was willing to trade, to leave you here—I, I mean, in the Shadows—in place of me. You told me to do it, but I wouldn't.”

Malik nodded slowly as Bakura talked. “Yeah, that—of course, yes. I remember now.” He shook his head. “I don't know why I didn't before.”

“So…” Bakura paused, steeling himself. “So...do you remember...what happened after that?”

Malik looked like he was thinking hard. “Oh,” he suddenly said. “We kissed.”

Bakura smiled and nodded. “And when we kissed, we were suddenly transported to an apartment… _this_  apartment.”

Malik squinted, seeming as if he were attempting to work out what Bakura was trying to tell him. “Are you saying...the kiss got us out of the Shadow Realm? You mean...when we kiss or have sex, it creates _actual_  magic? Is that why you were talking about the thing where the room gets brighter and stuff when we have sex? Is that _actually_  heka?”

“Well...yeah, it is real heka.”

“Oh.” Malik smiled. “That's actually really cool. But...you said what you had to tell me was bad…”

Bakura sighed. “Malik...do you remember the last time you actually saw another person besides me? The last time you saw your siblings? Or the last time you were outside, or anywhere other than this apartment? Do you even have any idea where we live...like, what city or even what country we live in?”

Malik's eyes went wider and wider as Bakura talked, and Bakura could see the fear bleeding into Malik's features again.

When Malik didn't answer any of his questions, Bakura squeezed his eyes closed for a second, then finally decided to just come out with it. “The kiss _didn't_  get us out of the Shadow Realm, Malik. It brought us here, to this apartment, but...it's not an apartment.”

Malik just stared at him, silent.

Bakura went on. “It's a magical construct created by our...you know, our bond with each other. The magic we create together grants us some protection from the Shadows, allows us to...well, be safe here together. But...outside of here is…”

“We're still in the Shadow Realm,” Malik said, voice flat. He continued staring at Bakura, but didn't otherwise react.

“You're...taking this better than I thought you would. Better than I did, anyways. Or are you just in shock?”

“I…” Malik started. “I think I already knew.”

“Wait, what?”

Malik gave a quick shake of his head. “I mean, not consciously.” He paused and dropped his head into his hands. “Gods, this is just like the Battle City tournament!”

When Bakura gave him a questioning look, Malik elaborated, “When I found out about the existence of my alternate personality...who really killed my father...everything. I overheard my sister talking about it. You'd think I would have panicked, or maybe tried to deny it, but I remember I didn't even react. Because I already knew. Somewhere, deep down...somewhere in the back of my mind...I always knew.”

“Well, your powers of denial have always been legendary,” Bakura joked, giving him a false, affectionate punch on the arm.

Malik actually laughed.

“Just for the record,” Bakura said, “I sure as fuck didn't know. I only just found out yesterday.”

“How did you find out?” Malik asked.

“Ryou told me,” Bakura said.

“Ryou,” Malik gasped, as if he'd suddenly realized something. “How can we talk to Ryou? Don't tell me he's here in the Shadow Realm too?”

“No, no,” Bakura said. “He managed to make a spell so he could contact us occasionally. Those phone calls we get from him and your siblings...that's them contacting us from the world of the living.”

“Oh,” Malik said. “Well, that's good. At least we can still talk to them.”

“And they're working on getting us out,” Bakura quickly assured him. “And now that we're both aware of where we really are, they should be able to manage it soon. Sorry, I should have mentioned that part right off.”

“Oh.” Malik smiled. “Well that's _really_ good, then.”

Bakura gave him a look of confusion. “You know...I know you said you already kind of knew, but you were being _really_  calm about this whole thing for not even knowing until just now if there was even a way for us to get out.”

Malik shrugged. “I can think of worse things than being trapped with you for eternity.”

Bakura laughed. “You're insane.”

“Anyways, I chose this. I remember now. I did tell the demon I'd stay here with you.”

“So, um...you do understand that us being in the fucking Shadow Realm is an actual problem, right? The protective magic we create together wears off after a while, especially when we sleep and haven't been interacting with each other for hours. And then...the demons take one of us. And they torture us, Malik. Are you remembering that part?”

Malik scrunched up his face in confusion. “No...I…”

“Those nightmares I have...they aren't actually nightmares. A lot of them, anyways. They're real. And Malik, you're gone so damn much I seriously thought you had a fucking job. And you always come home all pissed off and covered in bruises and cuts.”

Malik was starting to look frightened again now, and though Bakura didn't like to see him scared, he was relieved to see a more normal reaction from him.

“I mean,” Bakura said, “apparently they can't do anything too serious to us because of the protective magic. But they can fuck with our heads, give us minor injuries...and I don't know about you, but I'd seriously prefer not to spend the rest of eternity trapped in a hellish dimension where demons just snatch me or my partner every day or so for a nice little torture session.”

“But you said my siblings and Ryou are going to get us out, right?” Malik asked, an urgent note to his voice now.

“Yeah. They're working on it. They couldn't do much before because they couldn't even get us to realize where we really are. The demons were using Shadow magic to block them from telling us. But now that we know...Ryou said they'd be able to craft a spell for us to do that will get us the hell out of here and back to the world of the living.”

“Okay,” Malik sighed. He breathed deeply for a moment, seeming to calm himself. “I trust Ishizu and Rishid. And Ryou, too, from what I know of him. If they say they can get us out, then they can.”

“I think they will. We need to contact Ryou soon and let him know that you know the truth now.”

“Oh...oh, gods,” Malik said, suddenly looking sick. He clutched at his stomach, doubling over.

“Malik?” Bakura asked urgently, putting his arm around his shoulders.

“I'm...I'm okay...I just...I just remembered. About...the torture.”

Bakura pulled him closer. “It's alright. Not much longer. They'll have the spell ready soon.”

“So...what the demons do to me...that's what they've been doing to you, too?” Malik glanced up at him, a pained look in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Bakura admitted. “But I'm used to it.”

“Fuck, don't say that!” Malik exclaimed, dropping his head into his hands. “Damn...I guess I was just repressing all the things the demons did...but as soon as you said it...about the torture…”

“Sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that part.” Bakura rubbed Malik's back.

“No, no...I'd rather know the whole truth.” Malik grimaced. “Gods, my powers of denial _are_ legendary.”

“Don't beat yourself up about it too much. It's not entirely your fault. The demons have been influencing our minds to make us forget what happens when they have us...or in my case, make me think they were just dreams. And they were bending our minds to discourage us from thinking too hard about anything. That's why I didn't really realize something was wrong with this whole situation until Ryou told me.”

“Fuck,” Malik said. “This is way more messed up than I first thought.”

Bakura gave him a sympathetic look, continuing to stroke his back over his shirt.

“Bakura...I don't want…” Malik paused, looking distressed. “Thinking that they could just take you and hurt you at any time...or me…”

“Well, we can prevent the demons from taking either of us by making sure to keep the protective spell strong,” Bakura said. “They only seem to grab one of us after it wears off, usually after we've been asleep.”

“So, what...can we not sleep?”

“We can for a while,” Bakura said. “It seems like the protective magic usually sticks around for close to two hours after we've strengthened it, sometimes longer.”

“You mean by having sex?” Malik asked.

“Well, that's not the only way. Remember just a bit ago when we kissed after I said...you know…” Bakura glanced away. “You saw the magic then, right? But sex does seem to be the most reliable method of creating the heka.”

“So...we need wake up every couple hours to do it?” Malik let out a small laugh.

“I suppose so, if we want to be sure neither of us gets taken again before we get out of here. That's actually why I woke you up...after we did it earlier, the heka stuck around for a little more than an hour and a half. I woke you up when I saw it disappear.”

Malik's eyes went wide as he seemed to come to a realization. “So _that's_ why Ryou said I need to give you more blow jobs!”

“Yeah. Trust me, that was not a fun conversation.”

“So I actually, seriously need to give you more blow jobs...or else we'll both be kidnapped and tortured by demons.”

Bakura chuckled. “Yeah, basically.”

Malik grabbed Bakura's chin and gave him a searching look. “Bakura, tell me the truth...are we _really_  in the Shadow Realm...or is this all just an elaborate scheme to get me to suck your cock more often?”

Bakura knew he was kidding and burst out laughing, throwing himself backwards and flopping onto his back on the bed. Malik dissolved into laughter as well, falling next to him and clutching onto him as they giggled together.

They shared a few short kisses as their laughter died down, cuddling together on the bed. Bakura could feel their giddy kisses transmuting into sparks in the air all around them. Then Malik suddenly turned to stare up at the ceiling.

“Oh...I see it…”

Bakura looked up as well. “Yeah?”

“It's beautiful,” Malik gasped. “All shiny and silver and lighting everything up.”

“Huh,” Bakura said. “I see it as gold.”

Malik turned to give him a knowing smile, and Bakura smiled back, his eyes soft. But then Malik sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Do you think...do you think we could sleep for a while? I'm actually really, really tired.”

“I'm not sure how long the magic will last...I mean, it seems to last for a couple hours after sex, but I haven't gotten to test it in many different situations…”

Malik gave him a tired look. “So...should we…”

“No, no. You sleep. I'll wake you up when the magic runs out.”

Malik gave him a grateful look, but said, “Are you sure?”

“I'm used to not getting much sleep. It's not a big deal.”

“I hate to make you stay up. It's just...this is all a lot to take in all at once, and I only got an hour or so before you woke me up, and earlier today…” Malik winced, and Bakura thought he must be remembering what had happened when the demons had taken him earlier.

“Of course you're worn out after going through all that. Sleep.”

Malik didn't seem to have the energy to further protest Bakura's offer. He closed his eyes and laid his head on Bakura's shoulder, and Bakura slid a hand underneath his shirt, tracing his scars with his fingertips until he drifted off.


	28. Chapter 28

“Gods, that's disturbing.” Malik stood in front of the window, hands on his hips.

Bakura walked up behind him. “Yeah.”

Now that they both knew the truth, they could see what was really outside the window: darkness, swirling shadows, and prowling demons.

“Well, this might cheer you up,” Bakura said. “I had an idea. Come over here.”

With that Bakura went over to their TV and knelt in front of it. Malik firmly shut the curtains and followed, sitting down next to him.

“So, nothing in this apartment is really real, right?” Bakura said. “Our TV and our table and our bed and even our clothes...it's all just stuff that was created by our magic.”

Malik glanced around. “Yeah, I guess that must be true. Gods, that's so weird to think about.”

“Yeah, but listen,” Bakura said. “Okay, so...when you make dinner, it's not as if you actually go out and buy groceries, right? There are no stores in the Shadow Realm. You just _believe_  that you went out and got groceries, and then whatever food you wanted to buy appears here.”

Malik gave a little shiver. “So creepy!” He grimaced. “I suppose I'm kind of used to it, since it's not much different than when I was losing time due to my other personality, but...I didn't think I'd have to go through that again.”

Bakura gave him a sympathetic look. “I know.” But then he looked at Malik with excitement and said, “But think about what this means!”

Malik raised an eyebrow. “And what is that?”

“It means that when we're here in the apartment—the magical construct—we can create things just by imagining them,” Bakura explained. “Like, last time you came back with cuts and bruises, while we were having sex, I imagined your injuries being gone, and then they disappeared.”

“Oh.” Malik's eyes widened slightly. “Well, thanks for that.”

Bakura nodded. “So, I think I should be able to...well, watch.” Bakura closed his eyes. “Touch me.” Bakura felt Malik's hand slide underneath the back of shirt, and he focused on Malik's affectionate touches as he concentrated very hard on what he wanted.

“Hey, cool!” Malik suddenly said.

Bakura opened his eyes to see a copy of Mario Maker 2 sitting in front of him on the floor. He smiled, picking up the game and turning it over in his hands. “Awesome.”

Malik laughed. “That is pretty neat.”

“You should be able to do it, too,” Bakura said. “Want to try?”

“I guess.” Malik shrugged. “What should I make?”

“Well, I got the idea because I was thinking about that wire wrapped jewelry we were making. I thought I'd gone out and stolen the stuff for it, but obviously I didn't. And now I realize that I never even had an actual memory of going out and stealing it. I don't think my mind is used to making up false memories the way yours is, so that's probably why...and I think that might be the only time I imagined that I left the apartment at all. But that one time...I wanted the stuff to make wire wrapped jewelry, and I guess I just...assumed that I must have gone out and stolen it.”

“Feels weird, doesn't it?” Malik asked with a wry smile.

“Yeah,” Bakura said. “But my point is...I imagined that I went out and stole it, and then all that gold and silver and all those jewels just appeared here!”

“So, you're saying...I could have all the gold and jewels I want just by thinking about it?”

Bakura gave a vigorous nod. “Try it!”

“Okay, okay.” Malik closed his eyes. As he sat there, looking deep in concentration, Bakura suddenly leaned over and surprised him with a kiss. Malik's eyes popped open, and then he smiled against Bakura's mouth before beginning to kiss him back.

A moment later, Malik pulled back, breaking the kiss. “Look!” He gave a little laugh of delight as held up his arm to Bakura, showing him the new golden bracelet ringed with amethysts that was now on his wrist.

“See? It's easy!” Bakura smiled. “We can have anything we want just by imagining that we've already got it. I can have every new video game the day it comes out...even before it comes out! And every horror movie ever made! And you can have all the clothes and jewelry you want. You don't even have to cook anymore...I can just imagine I've already got a nice rare steak. And...well, I'll imagine a vegetarian dish for you, too.”

Malik returned his smile. “I guess that is an unexpected benefit of being trapped in the Shadow Realm. I can't really complain about having all the clothes, jewelry, food and games I want instantly.”

“You know, we don't _have_ to leave,” Bakura joked. “Sure, we'll need to have sex every hour or two in order to keep either of us from getting taken by the demons, but I think we can make that work.” Bakura waggled his eyebrows at Malik, giving him a salacious stare.

Malik laughed. “Not to imply I don't want to have sex with you every two hours...but, okay, I really don't want to have sex with you every two hours.” Malik let out a humorless laugh, and then groaned. “I'm fucking exhausted.”

Bakura let the smile fall off his face, no longer hiding the tiredness in his eyes. “Yeah,” he admitted with a sigh. “Me too.”

“I guess it makes sense now why we're always so damn worn out,” Malik said. “Even before we started waking up every couple hours to have sex...the demons were taking us while we were asleep. So we weren't getting much real rest.”

Bakura nodded. “You know, I keep telling myself I don't really need sleep...I mean, I don't have a body, I'm not even alive, so why should I need sleep? But somehow it doesn't change how fucking tired I feel all the damn time.”

“Well sleep is for the mind, too,” Malik pointed out. “You know, people literally go insane and start hallucinating and stuff when they don't sleep for a long time.”

Bakura gave a bitter laugh. “Tell me about it. I didn't get to sleep for 3,000 years when I was in the Ring.”

Malik winced. “That sounds like hell.”

“One of the best things about Ryou finding the Ring was that once I was sharing a body with him, I could finally sleep sometimes. Of course I had nightmares a lot, but...”

As Bakura trailed off, Malik said, “I suppose we need to call him, don't we?”

“Yeah. We should probably go ahead and do that.”

“I keep putting it off because I'm so fucking tired and the idea of doing it is just...stressful...but I suppose it's not going to get any easier the longer we wait, is it?”

Bakura shook his head. “The Shadows will make you feel averse to doing anything that will help us get the hell out of here. But we have to fight that.”

“Well, then...let's just get it over with.”

Bakura nodded in assention and reached for his phone. “He's probably getting worried by now, anyways.”

Malik smirked. “I'll be sure to mention to him that you care.”

Bakura glared at him. “No time for that! Too many important things to discuss!” After a short pause he said, “Hey, Ryou!” He put him on speaker and laid the phone down between himself and Malik.

“Bakura! Hi!” Ryou's voice came from the phone. “Is Malik there? Did you tell him? Because I swear, if this is another—”

“Yes, yes,” Bakura cut him off. “Malik knows. We can both hear you.”

“Thank the gods,” Ryou said. “Malik, how are you? I know it must have been hard for you, finding out...well, you know.”

“I'm actually alright,” Malik responded. “A lot of things are really...disturbing...when I think about them, but...this was my choice. I chose to stay here. With Bakura. Plus, I think I kind of already knew the truth deep down, even before Bakura told me.”

“Well, it's good to hear you're handling it well,” Ryou said. “Not that I doubted you could. You've always been a strong person.”

“Hey, Ryou,” Bakura broke in. “That's nice and all, and I'm sure Malik appreciates your concern, but we're really tired and stressed and we'd actually like to just get this over with.”

“Of course, of course, I understand,” Ryou said. “Well, the spell isn't quite ready yet, but we're very close. It should be done soon. So would you like me to just go ahead and tell you exactly what you'll need to do on your end?”

“Thanks, Ryou. I think that would be best,” Malik said.

“Well, it might be a bit dangerous.” They heard Ryou swallow. “But I believe you're both capable. You'll get through this and get yourselves back here.”

“Yeah, yeah, danger,” Bakura said. “Just tell us what we need to do.”

“Alright.” Ryou took a breath, and when he spoke again, he sounded professional and detached, like a professor lecturing his students. “You two will have to go out into the Shadows in order to cast the spell. The spell can't be done inside the magical construct; it will only work out in the Shadows. The demons will know know this—there's really no way to talk about it without them finding out. So the demons will try to send you back to construct to keep you from doing the spell. So first, you'll need to do a spell which will destroy the construct and temporarily dampen the power of your light magic so that the construct won't be instantly recreated. That way, the demons can't prevent you from doing the spell by sending you back to the construct, because the construct won't exist. Of course, this will be dangerous because, with your light magic less powerful than it usually is, the demons will be less hindered in what they're able to do to you.”

“Wait, wait,” Malik said. “Destroy the construct? Be out in the Shadows without our light magic protecting us? Are you serious?”

But Ryou was apparently now in his in his research and teaching mode, one Bakura has become familiar with over the years, and he seemed unphased by Malik's worry. “Well, the good news is that the spell to dampen your light magic will run out on its own after a short while—nothing is capable of permanently impeding your ability to create the light magic. Of course, the demons will try to separate you two before the power of your light magic is restored, since you can't create strong protective magic without interacting with each other. That will be the biggest danger, so you should attempt to stay near each other at all costs.”

“Oh, is that all we have to do?” Bakura sneered.

Ryou ignored him and went on. “Now, while your light magic is dampened, you must do another spell—the spell Rishid, Ishizu and I have been working on for you—that's the spell which will get you out. Malik, your siblings and I will also be doing a spell over here on our end which will anchor you and give you a location to come to in the world of the living. By the time that's finished, the spell to dampen the power of your light magic should have run out. So once your ability to create light magic together is fully restored, you must do something to create light magic together—preferably the strongest magic you can. As we've recently discovered, the heka you create together is a personal thing between the two of you, so we'll leave it up to you two to decide how best to create that magic.”

“I am _not_  fucking in front of the demons,” Malik exclaimed, and Bakura laughed.

“It's up to you to figure out,” Ryou said firmly. “Now, once you've created that light magic together, you should be instantly transported back here to Japan, which is where Rishid, Ishizu and I will have done the anchor spell. Do you understand?”

“I think so.” Malik scrunched up his face. “So we leave the apartment, walk out into the Shadows, do a spell to destroy the construct and dampen our light magic...then, while the demons are trying to separate us, we stay together and do the spell that will get us back home...and by that time our light magic's power should be restored, so then we create some powerful heka together and...that's it, we're alive again and with you and my siblings in Japan?”

“Oh, sure, that sounds simple and easy,” Bakura said sarcastically.

“I have confidence in you both,” Ryou said. “You can accomplish this.”

Malik looked overwhelmed, but said, “Alright, so...what now?”

“As I mentioned, we don't have your spell quite ready yet,” Ryou said. “I'll contact you as soon as we do. Or, if you don't hear from me, you should try to call me. Then, of course, you'll need to let us know exactly when you plan to leave the construct and do the spell, so that we can be doing the spell over on our side at the same time.”

“Okay...alright,” Malik said. He looked at Bakura with tired, worried eyes, and Bakura reached out to squeeze his hand.

“Well, okay then, Ryou,” Bakura said. “Is there anything else we need to know?”

“No, nothing else at the moment,” Ryou said. Then, dropping his professional tone and sounding more friendly and sympathetic again, Ryou said, “Are you guys alright? I know what you'll have to do might seem scary, but I truly believe in you both.”

“Thanks, Ryou,” Malik said, voice dull.

“Are there any questions you have?” Ryou asked. “Or would you just like to talk about any worries you're having?”

“I think we just need some time alone to process all that, Ryou,” Malik said, and Bakura gave Malik a nod of agreement.

“Alright, well, don't hesitate to call me if there's anything you'd like to discuss,” Ryou said. “Or of course, if you'd just like to talk.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Malik said.

“I'll let you go, then,” Ryou said. “But Malik, if you feel up to it, you should call your brother and sister sometime soon. They'd like to talk with you.”

“Alright. Yeah. Tell them I said hello, and we'll see them soon.”

“I will,” Ryou said. “Remember to call me if you need anything.”

“Yeah, okay. Bye, Ryou,” Bakura said. He clicked to end the call.

As soon as Bakura set the phone aside, Malik made a little sound of distress. Bakura got up to sit on the couch, pulling Malik along with him, and Malik curled into his side.

“So,” Bakura said, putting his arms around Malik and pulling him nearer, “you know that thing I said about just staying in the Shadow Realm?”

Malik barked out a little sarcastic laugh as he squirmed even closer to Bakura.

Bakura gave him a few kisses on his forehead and said, “Do you feel like talking about it right now? Or later?”

“Later,” Malik said. “Right now I just want to rest.”

“Yeah,” Bakura agreed. The phone call had made him feel even more exhausted than he normally did. He was of the same mind as Malik on the subject—at the moment he didn't want to talk about, or even think about, what they were going to have to do in order to escape this place. So he blocked it all out of his mind and instead closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Malik's body warm against his.

They snuggled together, sharing a few short kisses as their hands reached underneath each other's shirts so they could touch bare skin, and before they knew it they had fallen asleep.


	29. Chapter 29

Bakura sat on the couch, alone, his body aching with new injuries as he cursed himself for accidentally allowing himself to fall asleep.

The demons had come after they'd fallen asleep, of course. One of them had beaten up on Bakura a bit, then played its new favorite trick of sending him back to the construct by himself to wait for Malik to return.

Bakura passed the time by telling himself again and again that Malik would be back soon and that he'd be alright.

And he was. It wasn't actually long before Malik walked in the door, and surprisingly he didn't even have any visible injuries. Bakura rushed to him and captured him in a tight hug.

“You alright?” Bakura asked.

“Totally fine,” Malik said, returning his embrace. “The demon actually didn't even hurt me. It seemed to just want to talk, if you can believe that.”

“Huh,” Bakura said. “Actually the same thing happened to me once. The first time one of the demons took me after I'd just found out that we're in the Shadows, the thing just wanted to chat.”

“But I guess it didn't just want to chat with you this time,” Malik said with bitterness, apparently noticing Bakura's bruised and battered body. “Are _you_  alright?”

“I've had worse,” Bakura said, giving him a crooked smile.

They were quiet for a moment, holding each other, then Bakura asked, “So what did the demon say to you, anyways?”

“I'll tell you in a bit if you want.” Malik looked down at Bakura. “But don't you want me to heal that for you first?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

With that, Bakura walked over to the couch, sitting down, and Malik got on his knees in front of him. Bakura quickly pulled down his jeans and boxers, and Malik didn't hesitate to take his already-hard cock into his mouth.

Malik knew every trick to make Bakura moan and writhe, and it didn't take long before Malik's warm mouth and questing tongue and firm lips had made Bakura forget all about the purported reason they were doing this, forget all about his injuries and the demons and the Shadows, now only able to think about the pleasure Malik was giving him.

Bakura's head spun with all the amazing sensations being inside Malik's mouth brought him, the overwhelming physical pleasure and the heat and the closeness and the knowledge of how much Malik just wanted to make him feel good. He wished he could hold back so it wouldn't be over too quickly, so he could feel this way for longer, but it was all too much and he didn't even notice how bright the lights had gotten and how hot the room had grown until after he'd already cried out Malik's name and finished inside his mouth.

He felt his orgasm throughout his entire body, the pleasure concentrated between his legs but spreading out all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. Malik sucked until Bakura was totally spent, then he climbed up onto couch and pulled Bakura close. Bakura kicked his pants the rest of the way off so he could fold his legs up underneath him and curl up next to Malik. He snuggled into Malik's side, content and relaxed in the calm of the afterglow.

Malik tilted Bakura's face up, looking at him intensely. “It worked,” Malik finally pronounced. “All gone.”

Bakura nodded, smiling, and moved to bury his face in Malik's shoulder. “Thank you.”

Malik kissed the top of his head in acknowledgment, then slid a hand into his hair and began scratching his scalp.

Bakura hummed in satisfaction. After a few minutes of calm quiet, Bakura asked, “So what did the demon say to you?”

“Oh, it wanted me to make a deal to leave you here so I could escape,” Malik said.

“Oh, yeah. It tried the same thing with me.”

“It was trying to scare me and stuff, too,” Malik said, “telling me that they didn't bother to try to cut off that last phone call with Ryou because they want us to go through with the plan to get us out, since they think it's bound to fail, that they'll be able to keep us separated from each other while our light magic is blocked and then we'll both be trapped here forever. So it said taking the deal was my only hope of escape.”

“Well, if they're so confident in that, that we'll fail and they can have both of us forever, why would they make an offer to let you escape? They must know we're likely to succeed,” Bakura assured him.

“Well, the deal is obviously fake,” Malik said. “They wouldn't actually let me out if I agreed to leave you here.”

“Oh? Are you sure?”

“I mean, not that it matters...of course I wouldn't agree to leave you here even if the deal were real,” Malik said. “I refused to agree to it back when I first got here, and I think the deal actually was real back then...or at least I totally believed it was at the time.”

“I know.”

“But yeah, it's definitely fake now,” Malik said. “If I agreed to leave you here, to sacrifice you to save myself, then that would break our bond. And without our bond, our light magic would be gone, and then they'd be able to keep both of us if they wanted. Without our magic protecting us, there would be nothing stopping them from doing anything they wanted to both of us...and it's not like they'd honor the deal just to be nice.”

“Oh,” Bakura said. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“I think it was real in the beginning, back before we'd first created the light magic together,” Malik said. “Back then, they just wanted to get me the hell out of here so I wouldn't interfere. Doesn't really matter either way though, I guess.”

“So, did you tell it you knew the deal wasn't real?”

“Nah. Just said if I wouldn't agree to leave you here back then, I certainly wouldn't now.” Bakura nodded, and then Malik said, “After that it was just trying to convince me to be a jerk to you, to hurt you and stuff, to...attack you. As if I'd just say, _Yeah, sure, I'll get right on that._  Oh, and then it took that sun anklet you gave me and chucked it out into the Shadows.”

“Funny.” Bakura scowled. “It did the same to me—took the moon necklace you made me and threw it into the Shadows.”

Malik made a face. “What an asshole.”

“Yeah, seriously.”

“I can make you another one if you want,” Malik said. “I mean, right now, just by thinking about it.”

“Oh, sure.”

“How do you want it to look? The same as the last one, or different?”

“I want it to look however you want it to look,” Bakura said. “Like, if you could make any piece of jewelry for me—which you can—I want it to look like that. You know, something that says it was made by _you_ , something _you_  think is the very best looking piece of jewelry possible.”

“Okay.” Malik closed his eyes, and Bakura leaned up to trail kisses along his neck until he suddenly felt a slight weight on his chest.

He looked down and saw a new necklace hanging from his neck. This one was still silver and moon-shaped, but was no longer wire wrapped jewelry, instead looking professionally made and like it had come from the most expensive store in the world. The piece really did say _Malik_.

“Perfect,” Bakura said, smiling and kissing him in thanks. “Do you want a new anklet?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Different, or the same?”

“ _Exactly_ the same,” Malik said, sounding insistent.

Bakura closed his eyes and snuggled closer to Malik, concentrating and feeling Malik's hand stroking his back as Malik's other hand continued to scratch his head, until he heard Malik say, “Thanks.”

Bakura looked down at Malik's ankle, examining the jewelry for a bit before deciding he'd done a good job of making the new one look just like the previous one.

After a moment Bakura sighed and said, “So, do you want to...try to decide what we're going to do? I mean when we cast the spell to get out of here. How we're going to create the light magic that will get us back to Ryou and your siblings? And everything else? What our whole plan is going to be?”

Malik frowned, looking tired. “Well...we just had sex. It should be safe to nap for a bit first, right? Maybe I'll feel more like discussing it when I'm more rested.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

Malik stripped off his pants while Bakura pulled his shirt over his head, and then they both leaned sideways to lie down on the couch together, limbs intertwined. Bakura set his internal alarm to make sure they wouldn't sleep past the time when the magic wore off, and they both closed their eyes. But after several moments of silence, Malik spoke, bringing Bakura back from the edge of sleep.

“Huh,” Malik said, and Bakura opened his eyes to see Malik looking thoughtful.

“What?” Bakura asked.

“I just realized something,” Malik said. “We’re...virgins.”

“What?”

“Well...we never did it when you were in Ryou’s body.”

“Yeah…”

It was true; they hadn’t. There had been some kissing and groping, but that was as far as it had gone. Malik had said it would be _weird_  to do it with Ryou’s body, and Bakura had to agree that giving away Ryou’s virginity to Malik would be crossing a line. Besides, Bakura had been disconnected from his physical senses during that time, likely because he wasn’t actually in his own body, so he'd figured sex probably wouldn't be that great under those circumstances anyways.

Besides, they hadn’t had much time together. Of course, unlike with Ryou, something about _Malik_ had compelled him to unwittingly let down his defenses and throw his mind totally open to him, and Malik had done the same, and so full access to each other’s minds through the mind link had allowed them to know each other better within minutes than two regular people could know each other after a thousand years together.

So they may as well have known each other forever. But as far as chronological time went, they’d only been together for a couple days in Battle City, and then a few weeks in Egypt before the final game.

And...they hadn’t seen each other since. Not physically.

“Woah,” said Bakura. “We haven’t actually been in the same room physically since I was in Ryou’s body. And you’ve never really seen me in my own body.”

“Yeah,” said Malik. “So...we’ve only ever fucked in the Shadow Realm. Our bodies…”

“We _are_  virgins,” Bakura laughed. “That’s actually kind of hilarious.”

Malik grabbed Bakura and gave him a quick, firm kiss. “I am going to take your virginity so hard when we get out of here.”

Bakura took Malik’s face in his hands and rubbed their noses together. “Oh? You’re not going to be gentle since it’ll be my first time?” he teased.

Malik gave him a secretive smile. “Hm. Maybe.”

Bakura laughed. “Well, I look forward to finding out.”

Then Malik yawned, making Bakura yawn as well. They wordlessly closed their eyes again, and this time it wasn't long before they both fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was more of a "slice of life" type chapter without much plot happening! But you know, once I'm done with this fic, I'm planning to write a multi-chapter Harry Potter fic (which I've actually already started!) and then probably a longer Super Mario fic, and I don't have any other YGO stories planned currently. So it might be a really long time before I write Thief/Citron again. So I guess I'm getting all my Thief fluff out now! 
> 
> But anyways I promise there will be actual plot movement soon! The fic is almost over; I'm thinking now it'll be 32 chapters including the epilogue, so the plot will definitely be getting resolved soon!
> 
> Anyways thanks again to those still reading!


	30. Chapter 30

The phone rang, and Bakura sighed, pausing the video game he was playing. It was probably Ryou, which meant he needed to answer it.

“Hey, Ryou,” he said into the phone before putting him on speaker so Malik could hear too.

“Hi. How are you guys?” Ryou's voice chirped from the speaker.

“Pretty tired from the constant fucking, but other than that, alright,” Bakura said with a smirk, and Malik gave him a playful jab on his arm.

“Yes, well...that's…” Ryou paused to groan. “Anyways, enough of that talk. I called to say we have the spell finished. So just let us know when exactly you want to cast it.”

“It's only been a couple days since you told us about what we have to do,” Malik said. “Bakura and I haven't exactly...talked yet about what our plan is.”

“I don't want to pressure you before you're ready, but you do realize the Shadows will influence you against doing things that will help you get out,” Ryou said.

“We know, we know,” Bakura said.

“I swear we'll talk about it soon. Today,” Malik assured him.

“Rishid and Ishizu are arriving in Japan tomorrow,” Ryou said. “So please call me tomorrow evening. And please try to be ready by then...or at least let me know exactly when you will be ready.”

“We will,” Malik said. “I promise.”

Then Ryou told them the words for each of the two spells they'd need to cast, and Malik copied them down carefully, reading them back to Ryou to make sure he'd gotten it right. Once they were sure the information had been conveyed correctly, Malik thanked Ryou and promised again to call back the next day, then hung up the phone.

Malik looked at Bakura with a sigh. “Well, I guess we have to talk about it now.”

“Yeah,” Bakura said, sighing as well.

Malik walked over to the table and sat down, and Bakura followed. Malik seemed to concentrate for a moment, and soon wires and jewels appeared in front of him, and he began fiddling with them, idly beginning to make a piece. Bakura understood he was doing it to distract himself from the stressful conversation, to calm himself as they talked. Bakura decided it wasn't a bad idea and picked up a wire as well, starting to wrap it around a random stone.

Finally, Bakura said, “Well, I think you should be the one to do the spells. You're better at ancient languages and casting and stuff than I am.”

“Yeah, I figured I'd be the one doing it,” Malik agreed, looking down at the table at the piece he was working on instead of at Bakura. “I'll look over the spells and memorize them. I don't want to be trying to read off of a piece of paper while the demons are chasing us. I'm good at memorizing stuff, though...I guess my childhood education is turning out to be useful for something.”

Bakura nodded. “I'll try to...you know, keep the demons away from you while you're casting.” Bakura winced at the thought of the demons coming after Malik, then looked down himself, watching his own fingers wind a wire around the gem in his hand.

“They shouldn't be able to stop me,” Malik said. “I mean, even if they try to gag me or something, I don't think that would work. From everything I know about spellcasting, magic is more about force of will than anything. And I was thinking about what you said before, about how we don't really have bodies here...so it's not like I really have vocal cords that actually produce sound waves when I talk. So I don't think the spell would be based on that.”

“So, then the demons will mostly be trying to distract you, right? Trying to hurt you or upset you so you can't concentrate on doing the spell?” Bakura guessed. He gave the wire he was holding a harder than necessary twist. “I guess I'll try to stop them from doing that, then.”

Malik looked up for a moment, nodding, before glancing back down and continuing to wrap the wire around the stone he held. “So, I'll do the spells and you'll try to keep the demons busy...and then…”

Malik trailed off, and Bakura finished for him, “I guess the only thing left after that is to figure out how we're going to create the light magic that will get us the hell out of here once and for all.”

Malik nodded again. “Any ideas?”

Bakura stared down at the gem between his fingers, twisting the wire around it again and again. “Should I...you know, say that I...th-that I, you know—”

“Don't you dare!” Malik said with such vehemence that it made Bakura's eyes go round as he looked up sharply and dropped the piece he was working on onto the table.

Malik had briefly looked up from his work to admonish Bakura, but now he dropped his eyes again, looking at the forming piece of jewelry in his hand and turning it over and over. “I seriously don't care if you ever say it, but if you do, I don't want it to be because you _have_ to,” Malik continued. “And not in front of the demons. _I'm_  certainly not saying it for the first time in front of the demons, I can tell you that much.”

“Oh?” Bakura said in a teasing tone. He batted his eyes in an exaggerated manner and gave Malik a sly smile. “I didn't realize you had your heart set it on being _special_ the first time. Is there some particular scenario you've dreamed of?”

Malik snorted. “Well, admittedly, at this point we've waited so long to say it that it would be kind of anticlimactic if you just tossed it off while I was doing the dishes or something.”

“What if I tossed it off while I was doing the dishes?” Bakura joked.

Malik scoffed and gave Bakura a sardonic look. “ _That_  will never happen. You'll definitely say it _way_ before I ever get you to do the dishes.”

Bakura laughed out loud, then after a moment said, “Well what do you want to do, then? I suppose fucking in front of the demons is still out?”

“Definitely,” Malik said firmly. “Besides, I doubt it would even work. I mean, with the demons watching, and trying to stop us by doing...well, I don't even want to think about what they're going to be trying to do to us.”

Bakura grimaced. “Well, do you have any better ideas?”

“I don't know, can't we just, like, do whatever feels right in the moment? That seems like the way this sort of thing ought to go.”

“You know I usually like to plan every detail and have backup plans for my backup plans. But…” Bakura shrugged. “Hell, not like that ever actually worked out for me. I suppose we can just wing it, if that's what you think is best.”

“If nothing else, we can just kiss,” Malik said. “That's worked before, right? So that can be the backup plan.”

“I guess we'll just have to make it a really good kiss.” Bakura gave a little laugh.

Malik nodded. “So, are we done talking about this? That's everything, right?”

“I guess,” Bakura sighed. “But you know we have to talk to Ryou tomorrow, right? And we should really tell him we're ready to go ahead and do the spells. We can't wait forever.”

“I know,” Malik said. “But until then...we can just try to relax and not think about it, right?”

Bakura nodded in agreement.

After that, they did as Malik said. They fucked, and slept, and fucked, and slept, and played video games, and dreamed up their favorite foods to eat, and Malik made himself study the spells so he'd be sure to have them perfectly memorized. And eventually, they knew they couldn't put it off any longer, and they called Ryou.

Ryou answered on the first ring, and Malik put him on speaker. Before Ryou could even ask, Malik informed him that he and Bakura were ready to do the spell now. Sounding relieved, Ryou said he'd go set up the things he and Malik's siblings would need to do the spell on their end, and then he handed the phone over to Ishizu. Malik talked to her for a while, then to Rishid, listening to assurances and advice from them and promising them that he would be alright and would see them very soon.

Then, finally, Ryou got back on the phone and said everything was ready.

“Alright,” Malik sighed. “I guess we're ready, too.”

“Don't worry,” Ryou said. “I know you guys are going to do what you need to and be back here with us in no time.”

“We will,” Bakura said, trying to sound confident.

“Yeah,” Malik agreed.

After a few final well-wishes from Rishid and Ishizu, Malik finally hung up the phone.

He and Bakura looked at each other and then, without a word, walked to the front door. They both took a breath as they linked hands, and then Bakura reached for the doorknob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know not much happened in this chapter (again) but the next chapter will be the last real chapter, and it will be a fair bit longer than most chapters in this fic, and then after that it's just the epilogue! And I've already got both of those mostly done, so it shouldn't be too long of wait. Thanks for reading!


	31. Chapter 31

Bakura and Malik stepped out the front door of their apartment for the first time ever.

Bakura could see nothing ahead of him but pitch blackness. He turned back to look at the construct. He didn't know what he'd expected to see. Maybe an apartment building? But it was just a bright spot of white light with gold and silver sparkles shot through it.

And Malik was already beginning to chant the first spell. Bakura tugged on his hand to make him understand that he wanted to get moving, and then he began jogging off in a random direction, and Malik came along. Bakura didn't think the demons would try to come for them quite yet—the demons wanted them to destroy the construct and dampen their light magic, leaving them vulnerable—but he figured it was best to start moving now. When the demons did try to come, it would be harder for them to find them if they were a moving target.

Besides, he wasn't sure if he actually wanted to witness the construct being destroyed. Even though he knew now that it wasn't a real apartment, it had been home for quite a while. And they'd created it together. The idea of obliterating it gave him a bit of a pang in his chest.

But it wasn't long before Malik finished the spell. There was a bright flash of light that in some way made Bakura think of a silent explosion, and then Bakura immediately felt that he was somehow _less_ than he'd been just a moment ago. But he reminded himself that the full power of their light magic would restore itself on its own soon. And he didn't have time to think about that now. Malik was already beginning the second spell, and they needed to keep running.

He didn't imagine they'd be able to avoid the demons entirely, but he could buy them as much as time as possible. He ran faster, and Malik kept up, panting as he spit out the words of the spell.

They actually managed to avoid the demons for longer than he'd thought they would. It wasn't until Malik had stopped speaking aloud—which Bakura took to mean he'd finished the second spell, though he couldn't be sure since he didn't understand the language—that a huge black creature leapt out of the darkness and swung its giant barbed tail at them, knocking them to the ground.

Bakura gasped in pain, then looked over at Malik. “Did the second spell work?”

“No way to tell for sure,” Malik said. He breathed heavily, sounding like the wind had been knocked out of him. “But I think so. I know I did it right.”

“Can we create light magic again yet?” Bakura asked as he struggled to get up and pull Malik with him. Bakura didn't feel like their power had been restored yet.

“One way to find out,” Malik said, and leaned in as if to kiss him.

But the demon didn't let it happen. It swung its tail again, causing them to crash back down to the ground with a painful thump. Bakura didn't think the kiss would have worked anyways—not yet.

Then, before he knew it, the demon had shoved its way between him and Malik. He still clung to Malik's hand, but their bodies were separated by the large body of the demon.

“You've removed your own protection,” the demon rasped. “How courteous of you.”

“It will be back at any moment,” Bakura said.

He knew what was coming now. The demons would want to hurt them, and it would be a much more severe form of torture without the full power of their protective magic hindering the demons. But he'd suffered worse. And so had Malik. They just had to get through it until their full ability to create light heka was restored.

More worrying was the fact that the demons would be trying to to separate them before their power was restored. But he couldn't let that happen. They would need to hold onto each other at all costs.

Suddenly, another demon shot out of the darkness, and Bakura saw Malik wince as it sunk its claws into his shoulders. The first demon did the same to Bakura, and Bakura bit his tongue at the sharp pain. Then the demons started to pull them in opposite directions. They tried to hang on, but the creatures were too strong, and Malik's hand slipped out of Bakura's grip, causing panic to flare in Bakura's gut.

The demon still had him in its talons, and it pulled him backwards, away from Malik. But the demon didn't take him far. It seemed to try, but something was preventing it. The demon that held Malik, too, seemed like it was struggling to get farther away, but wasn't able to.

Bakura let out a relieved breath as he realized it was because of their their light magic. He knew it had been dampened, but not totally eliminated; it wasn't possible to completely extinguish it. And even when dampened, apparently there was still enough power there, and the strength of their bond was preventing the demons from pulling them too far away from each other.

But then Bakura suddenly couldn't see Malik anymore, or the demon that had ensnared Malik, or even the demon that he could still feel holding him in its claws.

“It isn't real,” he heard Malik call, and even if he hadn't heard him he would have known he was still close by—he could feel him.

It took a moment for Bakura to register why he couldn't see anything. Then he understood that the place had filled with smoke, as if a raging fire had been set.

But the demons were just trying to scare him. Malik was right—it wasn't real.

It felt real, though, much more real than any of the horrifying visions the demons had given him lately. He was already starting to cough and choke from the smoke that was entering what felt like his lungs, and he could feel the heat on his skin, only prickling at first but then stinging and burning.

He wondered if he should have been more worried and frightened. But this wasn't real, and Malik was right there.

The pain was terrible though. He felt the flames licking at his skin, burning, burning, burning, and he couldn't help but cry out at the feeling of his flesh being seared. But he concentrated on Malik's voice, yelling for him to hold on, that none of this was really happening, that Malik wasn't going anywhere.

He didn't know how long it went on before the smoke finally cleared. Maybe the demons had given up on that gambit when they saw they couldn't make him panic, and still couldn't get him far away from Malik.

But when the smoke finally dissipated, Bakura saw a terrible thing in front of him. Though he hadn't been there himself, he instantly recognized the scene from Malik's childhood. The demons had recreated the room where Malik had taken the initiation, and Malik was tied down to a slab in the middle of the room. The only thing missing was the stick he'd bitten on that day.

Bakura would have run to him if he could have, but the demon still held him, its claws refusing to dislodge from his shoulders no matter how much he struggled. So then it was Bakura's turn to call out to Malik that none of this was real, and that he was still right here.

But he wasn't sure if Malik heard him. Malik was looking up in horror at the demon that had captured him and now stood over him brandishing a sharp blade. It still looked like a demon to Bakura, but he wondered if it looked like something else to Malik.

Bakura tried harder to wrench away from the demon that held him, but it was no use.

But the other demon didn't cut Malik. Instead, it hissed, “You do not have to go through this again. You can go home at this very moment. Of course, you may not take the thief.”

“No,” Malik said. There were tears in his eyes.

“You do not believe our offer is genuine?” the demon asked. “Trust in me, you have been nothing but a nuisance to us since you came here, and we only wish you gone.”

“Fuck you,” Malik said, though his voice shook.

“I shall show you,” the demon said. Then it did a strange motion with its talons, and suddenly a portal opened up in front of Malik.

Through the portal, Bakura could see Ryou and Malik's siblings, each glowing with a faint blue light as they stood in what looked like a living room. Was it real? Or another illusion?

“Bakura!” Ryou cried. He tried to rush at the portal, but some kind of force knocked him back.

But when Ishizu reached out, crying out Malik's name, her hand came through. She didn't seem to be able to fully enter, but she reached in far enough that she was able to touch Malik's bound hands.

Malik gasped, and Bakura could tell by the look on his face that he was feeling something he hadn't felt in a long, long time—the touch of real human skin. And Bakura believed in that moment that what they were seeing truly was real.

The demon that held Bakura turned to Ryou. “Their light magic has not been restored as you predicted. They are helpless.”

Ryou gave Bakura a pained look, regret in his eyes. “It will come back, it has to! Just hold on!”

“I know,” Bakura said, trying to sound confident for Malik.

Ishizu still clung to Malik's hand, seeming to try to pull him towards her. The demon that stood above Malik said, “Perhaps your light magic will come back, perhaps it will not. Frankly, we do not want to take the risk. We have tired of fighting the two of you. We desire for you to leave this place, and will consider the thief prize enough for us.”

“No,” Malik spat. “I've told you I won't leave him.” He clung onto his sister's hand like a lifeline, seemingly unable to help continually shooting worried glances back at the demon above him, which was making slashing motions with its knife that stopped just short of catching Malik's back.

“Malik, everything will be alright,” Bakura said, attempting to make his voice sound as calm as possible even as the demon’s talons painfully twisted in the muscles of his shoulders.

“Malik...please…” Ishizu cried.

“You still do not believe us,” the demon looming above Malik said to him. “And yet, we have opened the portal and have allowed you to touch the woman. Do you see how she glows? That is the light of an anchoring spell. Now that you have touched her, we no longer have the power to tear you away from her. We could not stop you from leaving now if we wanted to.”

The demon that held Bakura turned again to Ryou. “It is true. Tell him.”

Ishizu tore her eyes away from Malik and looked at Ryou. “Is it true? Can he come home to us right now if he only chooses to?”

Ryou shook his head, giving Ishizu a confused look. “What? Why does that matter? He's not leaving without Bakura. I swear, their light magic will be back any minute—”

“Then it is true!” Ishizu exclaimed. “And you can't claim to know the light magic will come back! You said it would already have been restored by now, but it hasn't!”

“ _What_ ‽” Ryou yelled.

“Malik, you can can come home right now!” Ishizu said to him, sounding excited.

“Listen to her,” the demon hovering above Malik hissed. “Listen to your sister. Leave the thief here, and go home to your family.”

“Malik...Brother...please just leave him and come home,” Ishizu said, tenderness and worry in her eyes as she looked at Malik. “We love you, and—”

“Fuck you, Ishizu!” Ryou screamed, and Bakura actually yelped in shock, more surprised by this development than anything else that had happened that day—he'd never, ever heard Ryou curse before.

“You think you get to have your brother back, and I don't get to have mine?” Ryou shrieked, making something twist in Bakura's heart in a strange way.

“Ryou, please, see reason!” Ishizu said desperately. Her usual calmness, the cool and detached demeanor she normally carried, was gone, and she looked more harried and stressed than Bakura had ever seen her. “He's not really your brother, but Malik _is_  my brother, and you know how much we love him. You can't expect him to sacrifice himself for someone who—who is a murderer and a thief and a grave robber! I'm sorry, but you know it's true!”

Ryou gave Ishizu an absolutely murderous glare, looking almost like he wanted to leap at her, but he held himself together. Then Bakura saw the look of concentration in his eyes and realized he was still holding the anchoring spell for them, and that he couldn't let himself get too distracted or the spell would drop and neither of them would be able to get out even if the power of their light magic was restored.

“If you are having trouble making your choice,” the demon standing above Malik said, “I can begin cutting, and that may help you along.” With that, the demon reached down to trace the tip of the blade over one of Malik's existing scars, producing a thin trickle of blood and causing Malik to squeeze his eyes shut and let out a desolate-sounding moan.

But after only a moment, the demon stopped cutting, and Malik opened his eyelids to gaze again at his sister.

Ishizu looked at Malik with pleading eyes. “Brother, please…”

Rishid stood behind her, stoic. “It is your decision.”

“Malik,” was all Bakura said. Malik had been silent, looking too shocked to speak as each rapid development hit him one by one, but Bakura already knew Malik's answer, and only wanted to remind him he was still right here beside him, no matter what the demon did to him.

Then the demon brought the knife down again, harder this time. It dug the blade into Malik's back, and Malik screamed, tears leaking from his eyes.

The demon paused in its cutting for a moment. “Does this help you come to your decision? Once I start again, I will not stop.”

“I love you, Brother,” Ishizu said again. “Don't make the same mistake twice. Come back to us.”

Ryou cursed her again under his breath.

“No,” Malik said clearly.

Malik gave Ishizu a look of grave disappointment—disappointment in her, Bakura knew—grief and sorrow shining in his eyes. The demon raised the knife again, and as it started its downward arc, Malik let go of Ishizu’s hand, pulling as far away from her as his bonds would allow.

“Malik, why?” Ishizu cried, trying to reach for him again.

But she could barely be heard over Malik's screams as the knife began carving into him. Tears pricked at Bakura's eyes as he watched and suffered along with him.

Then Bakura suddenly felt a fullness and warmth inside him, and he knew without a doubt that their power was finally being restored, the ability beginning to simmer inside him, not so strong yet but slowly building.

He tried to pull away from the demon again, and this time he freed himself easily; it was like there was a rubber band snapping him to Malik's side.

Without a second thought, he leapt up onto the slab, putting his own body between Malik and the knife. The knife came down once more, and when it did, it sliced into Bakura's bare shoulders.

The demon tried to dislodge Bakura from Malik's body, but it couldn't. In its anger, it brought the knife down again, cutting ribbons of skin from Bakura's shoulders.

“Your magic is failing you,” the demon hissed as it cut again. “You are still here, and we can still harm you. If you choose to suffer this, so be it, but I will cut you all the way through until this blade reaches him. First, though, I will allow you experience the very same torment he endured as a child.”

Bakura clung to Malik, shielding his body with his own as the demon sliced into his skin again and again, the knife going deeper into his back each time. He couldn't help crying out with the pain of it, wondering why they hadn't been transported back to the world of the living yet. Had Malik cast the second spell wrong? But he could feel his ability to create light magic continuing to grow in him, and as it began to reach a crescendo, he knew that even if they couldn't get back to Ryou and the others, at least he could protect Malik.

And yet, even as he felt the power of their light magic continue to increase, his suffering actually grew worse, the pain from the cuts intensifying and seeming to become more and more real as his body somehow began to feel more substantial. The pain went on, and on, the knife carving into him again and again, intricate bladework being carved over his shoulders, hot blood flowing down his back as Malik below him let out an anguished moan, presumably at the agony of simply knowing what was happening to Bakura above him.

But then suddenly the pain did end, in the brightest flash of light Bakura had ever seen, and before he could even blink he was lying on the floor somewhere and he saw Ryou rushing over to him. But the pain was only gone for a second, and then it hit him again full force.

“Malik,” he choked out, suddenly realizing Malik's body wasn't underneath him anymore. He heard Malik let out a quiet sob.

“Bakura, you're home, you're safe,” Ryou reassured him, bending down to kneel beside Bakura, reaching out to grab his arm, and Bakura suddenly knew what Malik must have felt when he'd touched Ishizu’s hand. The feeling of real skin, his own skin, touching real skin was like nothing he could remember feeling before.

“Malik is right here,” Ryou said. “You're both safe. But you're bleeding, here, let me look at that—”

Bakura frantically looked around to search for Malik, the pain in his back flaring from only that slight movement. But he calmed when he did see Malik, crushed in a tight hug by Ishizu.

“Oh, you're bleeding too,” Ishizu said to Malik. “Here, we can—”

Ryou swung around to face Ishizu. “Get out.”

Ishizu looked at him in shock. “I understand that you're angry, but I do have to attend to my brother. He's injured.”

But Malik pulled away from her and went to Bakura's side.

“Are you alright?” Malik asked Bakura.

“I've survived worse.” Bakura tried to laugh.

“Get. Out,” Ryou repeated to Ishizu.

“Ryou, surely you understand—I apologize if I've offended you, but—”

“Ishizu, I swear, if you don't leave right this instant—” Ryou started. Bakura had never seen Ryou look so angry.

“You're being ridiculous,” Ishizu said. “And Malik, Ryou will take care of your friend. Now come here and let me look at your cuts. We've got to do something about them.”

Malik gave Ishizu a weary look. “Sister, please just respect Ryou’s wishes and leave now. I'll see you later.”

“But Brother—you can't possibly—”

Rishid came up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. “I think it is best if we go for now.”

“You ought to listen to him before I do something we'll all regret,” Ryou said coldly.

“Sister, please,” Malik said. “The last thing I want to do right now is fight. Ryou can take care of my wounds. I promise I'll see you soon. Tomorrow, alright?”

Ishizu frowned. She gave everyone in the room a haughty, tart look. “Very well, if that is how you all feel. We will return to our hotel. Malik, I expect to see you as soon as possible.” With that, Ishizu marched out the door. Rishid followed, but paused to give Malik a quick hug, quietly saying something to him that Bakura couldn't hear.

Once the door closed behind them, Ryou said, “I'm sorry if I caused problems with your siblings. But I just couldn't have her here anymore right now. I think you can understand how I felt about what she said about Bakura.”

Malik nodded. “I do.”

“Oh, and...I hope my outburst at her didn't imply that I didn't trust you not to leave Bakura behind. I was just so mad that she even suggested it...and the things she said about him.” Ryou shook his head. “And...after all this time, all the time I've been working with her, all these years, I...I had _trusted_ her to help me get both of you out. I would never have encouraged Bakura to leave you. Especially not right in front of _your_ siblings.”

“Don't worry. I get it,” Malik said.

“Alright, well...then let's just forget about it for now?” Ryou said, giving them both a friendly smile. “Let me go get some stuff to treat your injuries.”

Malik and Bakura both nodded. Then Ryou was bustling around, collecting bandages and salve. Bakura turned over partway, futilely trying to get into a more comfortable position.

“Bakura,” Malik gasped, eyes going round as he looked at him. “Oh, hell. Oh, I'm so sorry.”

Bakura was still overwhelmed with pain. “What? Why?”

Malik gave him a look of deep sadness. “You've got...across your shoulders...it's the same as mine…”

Bakura tried to smile, but it ended up as more of a grimace. “What, I have your wings? I'm alright with that. They look pretty cool on you.”

“Shut up,” Malik said, seeming unable to help smiling a bit in response.

Then he pulled Bakura into his arms, being careful to avoid his wounds, and for a moment, all of Bakura's pain seemed to disappear as he felt his very own skin against Malik's for the first time ever.

Bakura held him tight. “It's okay. We're okay.”

Malik snuggled in closer, sighing with pleasure, seeming to experience something similar to what Bakura was. He looked at Bakura, eyes tinged with relief, and gave him a soft, affectionate smile as his hand came up to gingerly touch his face. “Yeah. We're okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, they're finally out of the Shadow Realm! I hope the resolution was satisfying!
> 
> This has been a really interesting fic to write since it was my first time writing an unreliable narrator. Actually I don't even usually write from the perspective of just one character (all of my longer fics, and most of my fics in general, have been written in third person omniscient, where the narrator knows everything all the characters know.) But due to Bakura being an unreliable narrator for a big chunk of this fic, I had to write it solely from his perspective, which has been challenging. This was also my first time writing a horror fic. Horror is my favorite genre of fiction, so it was cool to finally write a horror story!
> 
> I've had fun writing this story, so I hope everyone else has had fun reading it!
> 
> Anyways, like I mentioned before, there is still an epilogue coming! I plan to post it next weekend.
> 
> Thanks again to everyone still reading, and everyone who has left kudos or reviews, and thanks to Steffy for the beta!


	32. Epilogue

Ryou had cleaned and bandaged their wounds, and even managed to make some magical salve that greatly reduced the pain. Bakura could barely feel his injuries anymore.

Ryou theorized that since the final piece of the spell to bring them back to the world of the living had been completed before the full power of their light magic was restored, instead of being transported home instantly their bodies had slowly become more and more solid as the power of their light heka increased, and this all meant that the wounds they attained in the Shadow Realm after the completion of the spell had actually affected their physical bodies, and as a result the injuries had come along with them when they’d escaped the Shadows.

Malik's wounds weren't nearly as deep as Bakura's—superficial, really, since his body had only just started to begin becoming solid when he'd suffered them—though it did worry Bakura a bit that the cuts had been made over existing scars. Bakura's wounds, though, were severe, and would definitely end up scarring.

But Bakura truly didn't mind. In a way, he kind of liked that he partly matched with Malik now, though he knew better than to say that to him. Instead, he'd just pointed out that he already had a scar on his face, so what was one more on his back? Really, the only thing that bothered Bakura about his new wing-shaped scar was the fact that it upset Malik.

After their injuries had been treated, Bakura had snuggled up close with Malik on the couch, Ryou sitting at the other end of the sofa, and the three had talked for a while, half-watching the TV in the background and eating snacks. They'd made plans to go out and do all the things Malik and Bakura couldn't do back in the Shadow Realm, where it was impossible to leave the apartment. Malik had said he would keep his promise to visit his brother and sister the next day, though he expected his siblings would go back to Egypt soon.

Malik and Bakura had told Ryou they themselves planned to stay in Japan, at least for the foreseeable future. Ryou had said they could sleep over at his apartment for as long as they needed to, but they all knew the two would want to get their own place as soon as possible. Though Bakura didn't think he wanted to go too far away from Ryou...from his family. He saw now that Ryou really was his family, and it made him choke a bit every time he thought about it. Of course, he wouldn't have said any of that out loud to Ryou. But he did tell him they'd visit often after they moved out on their own.

Once night had fallen, Ryou had sighed and said that he'd sleep on the couch and let Malik and Bakura have the bedroom for the time being, as long as they absolutely promised not to tell him anything whatsoever about what they were going to do in the bed, and to burn the sheets before they moved out. Bakura had snickered and agreed, as Malik gave Ryou an apologetic look and tried not to look amused.

And now, finally, they were alone. It was funny that they'd just spent years being completely alone, with no one at all besides each other, but all Bakura craved at the moment was to be alone with Malik again.

They stripped and fell into bed together, kissing as if they'd never kissed before. Bakura basked in the feeling of Malik's real skin against his—his actual, own skin in his own body. It was electric.

They cuddled and sighed and kissed and caressed each other for a long while, and then finally Malik turned Bakura over onto his stomach, and Bakura arched his back with eagerness.

Malik spread Bakura wide and leaned down to give his hole an experimental flick of his tongue, and Bakura almost screamed. Malik began circling his tongue around the tender skin of Bakura’s entrance, going faster with each pass.

“Oh...oh, gods, oh Malik! Oh _gods_!”

Malik paused for a moment and gave a soft laugh. “That good?”

“It’s...oh, gods...it’s so _intense_...I could actually feel physical sensations better in the Shadow Realm than when I was feeling everything through Ryou’s senses, but *this*...in my own body...it’s indescribable…”

Malik smiled and leaned down to start slowly circling his tongue again, and Bakura called out his name. He built up again to going faster, and after only a minute Bakura cried, “Oh, Malik, now...fuck me, right now!”

Malik stopped his ministrations and gave Bakura a little kiss on the back of his thigh. “We can’t yet, Bakura. You’re a virgin, remember? I seriously don’t want to hurt you.”

Bakura made a soft whining sound and buried his face in the pillow, and Malik dove down again. Bakura whimpered continuously as Malik went on, his legs shaking, and when Malik started flicking his tongue and then poking it inside just a bit, Bakura cried out at the top of his lungs, shouting curses and chanting Malik’s name. Malik responded by spreading Bakura wider and sliding his tongue in deeper, and Bakura lost his mind.

“Please, Malik, please fuck me, please I can’t take it…”

But Malik went on licking for at least ten minutes, which felt like hours to Bakura, who wailed and begged and shook and spasmed involuntarily the entire time.

Finally, Malik drew back, and Bakura sighed when he saw him pull out the lube.

But he slicked his fingers instead of his cock. “I’m going to prepare you first—and before you argue, remember you’ve never had _anything_ in there before. I’m not just going to shove my whole cock in right away and tear you open.”

Bakura sighed, defeated, knowing it would be futile to try to change Malik’s mind. “Hurry...please…”

“You’re the one who wanted me to be gentle, remember?” Malik said sardonically, and Bakura groaned.

Malik must have understood how desperate and ready Bakura was, because he at least started out with two fingers instead of just one, and Bakura moaned in gratitude. Bakura’s body shuddered as Malik slid his fingers fully inside, his hole gripping them and sucking them in deeper.

“Alright?” Malik asked.

Bakura gave an emphatic nod.

Malik began slowly drawing his fingers in and out, and Bakura immediately bucked up. But Malik placed a hand on the small of his back and held him down firmly. “No, Bakura. I’m not going to let you rip yourself apart.”

Bakura whimpered. “F-faster, please.”

Malik obliged, thrusting his fingers in and out a little faster. When he crooked his fingers to find the bundle of nerves Bakura had been wanting him to touch, Bakura went wild, and Malik had to press down on his lower back with all his weight to keep him still.

Malik’s fingers brushed against the right spot inside Bakura again and again, and Bakura moaned and yelled in utter desperation, out of his mind with pleasure and need. He finally had to bite down on his own arm, sinking his teeth in deeply enough to draw blood as every muscle in his body tensed from the overwhelming sensations Malik’s fingers were giving him.

Malik slowed his thrusts and then pressed his fingers directly into Bakura’s prostate, massaging it with slow circles. Bakura released his arm from his mouth and wailed, digging his fingers into the bedspread until his knuckles turned white.

“Please, Malik...I’m ready, please, please I can’t stand it…”

Malik looked down at Bakura's face. Bakura’s eyes were a bit wet now—he was almost crying with need. He knew Malik must have seen.

“Alright. Flip over,” Malik said, voice thick, as he withdrew his fingers.

Bakura quickly did as Malik said, turning onto his back and bending his knees as he spread his legs wide. Malik dumped more lube into his hand and then coated his cock. He took just a second to gaze down at Bakura, to lock eyes with him and take in the look of heated desire on his face. Then, finally, he plunged inside, and Bakura cried out in ecstasy.

“Oh, gods,” Malik said once he was fully inside. His entire body shuddered uncontrollably on top of Bakura’s. “Oh, gods, it’s…”

“S-see, I t-told you,” Bakura managed.

Malik had to close his eyes for a moment, apparently overwhelmed. “Oh, Bakura...you’re so…you feel...” He couldn’t seem to finish.

“Yeah?” Bakura said. He flexed his muscles inside, squeezing around Malik, and Malik let out a helpless little yelp.

Malik stayed like that for several seconds, completely enveloped by Bakura, body shivering but not otherwise moving, his nails digging into the skin of Bakura’s arms.

“Move, Malik,” Bakura said. He tried to rock his hips, but was held down by Malik’s weight. “Please.”

“I-I c-can’t,” Malik said. “If I move I’m going t-to...to…”

“Oh,” Bakura said softly.

Malik breathed in and out, seeming to try to get ahold of himself. Bakura could feel Malik’s cock pulse with need inside his body. Bakura’s own cock ached and throbbed between their bodies, desperate for attention.

“Malik...I _need_ to move…please...”

“A-alright,” Malik said, and he started slowly, gently rocking against Bakura. Bakura swayed his hips in time, arching up into Malik.

“Touch me,” Bakura begged. “Please touch me.”

Malik responded immediately, sliding a slick hand between their bodies and giving Bakura’s erection a firm stroke, and Bakura cried out with pleasure.

Malik kept his strokes as slow as his thrusts, making Bakura’s cock ache for more and causing Bakura to moan with desire.

“Faster,” Bakura said. “Please, faster!”

“I c-can’t…”

“Malik...faster...I’m going to...I’m s-so close…”

“Oh,” Malik breathed, and then he did speed up, suddenly slamming into Bakura as hard as he could and making Bakura scream in rapture. Malik’s hand on Bakura’s cock continued to keep pace with his thrusts, fast and hard now, Malik squeezing Bakura’s cock and stroking it quickly as he pounded into him.

It was only a few seconds later that Bakura spilled over Malik’s fist with a loud shout of euphoria, and Malik groaned in relief as he stopped holding back and let himself explode inside of Bakura.

They rode out their orgasms, continuing to move together, gradually slowing as they both emptied themselves completely, shouting incoherently at the beginning and then moaning softly and finally whispering each other’s names and nuzzling their faces together as they wound down.

When they finally finished, they lay together, making no move to pull out, enjoying the closeness. They shared gentle kisses, sighing as their hands wandered over each other’s skin with soft caresses. After several minutes, Malik finally let out a happy sigh and withdrew, rolling off of Bakura and lying next to him. Bakura rolled onto his side to face Malik and pulled him close.

Malik chuckled. “I don’t think that even lasted a minute.”

Bakura laughed as well. “I guess we really were virgins.”

Malik snuggled in closer. “Well, we have all the time in the world to practice together.”

Bakura smiled and gave Malik a quick kiss. “Sounds amazing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, that's it! Hope everyone enjoyed the epilogue, and the overall story!
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who's left comments or kudos!
> 
> As always, they lived happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> Fanart based on this fic:
> 
> [Morning Sunshine](http://chaosrocket.tumblr.com/post/175602554509/) by [bakura-ygo](https://bakura-ygo.tumblr.com)


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